


Smut and Fluff Prompt Fills [Seventeen/Reader]

by Luna_Writes_Stuff



Category: K-pop, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Bottom Boo Seungkwan, Bottom Chwe Hansol | Vernon, Bottom Hong Jisoo | Joshua, Bottom Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Bottom Yoon Jeonghan, F/M, Fluff, Hybrids, M/M, Multi, Other, Smut, Sub Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups, Sub Jeon Wonwoo, Sub Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi, Sub Wen Jun Hui | Jun, Sub Xu Ming Hao | The8, Threesome - F/M/M, all of them are clearly labeled at the beginning, idk there's a lot of different types of prompts and smut in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-23 21:46:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 64,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17691665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_Writes_Stuff/pseuds/Luna_Writes_Stuff
Summary: A collection of one-shots [mostly smut, but there are a few fluff pieces in it] of things written on my blog that are Seventeen Member/Reader. Most have domme reader, and there are quite a few where the gender of the reader isn't stated. Separate warnings for each one will be at the top of each, and if/when I write more they'll be added. These span quite a few years, so you may notice the writing of some of them are lower quality than some others.





	1. Noona Knows Best [Sub!Soonyoung/Reader]{NSFW}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Warnings:** _Crossdressing, I guess?? praise kink, low-key body worshipping, overstimulation, mentions of sex toys, lace kink???? Noona kink?? It’s not stated what their safeword is, but they do have one._  
>  **Written ?/?/16**  
>  This was the first piece of smut I ever wrote, as well as the first K-Pop anything I ever wrote.. so bear with it haha, I swear I got better!

The softest of whines left Hoshi’s lips as he ground his hips down on your knee again, computer precariously balanced on the other as you tapped away at the keyboard, ignoring him for the most part. His hands were locked behind him, held in place by cute pink lace handcuffs, cock carefully tucked up in the matching lace panties that you’d shown him that morning. He’d gotten all squirmy then, asking if you were going to use them on him for morning sex – you’d disappointed him by shaking your head and saying he had to go practice with the rest of the members. You’d gotten quite a few texts that absolutely screamed neediness after that.

And who were you to disappoint? Especially when you’d gotten that cute phone call from him later that afternoon, voice needy and desperate, wanting desperately for you to lead him into orgasmic oblivion as he tried to jack off in the Pledis bathroom – you of course had denied, giving him strict instructions to not touch himself anymore until he got home. (He’d immediately gotten whiney and whimpery, but a strict “Hoshi, are you  _defying_  me?” had him whispering a soft “..no,  Noona.”)

You weren’t  _actually_  Hoshi’s noona – you were a few years younger than him, and his girlfriend besides, but the day he’d figured out you like it he’d started calling you by it and hadn’t stopped since, going so far as to use it domestically in place of “jagiya”. The members had teased him about it at first, but had dropped it after it failed to spark the response in Hoshi that they had been hoping for. (He’d just laughed them off, teasing them back for their own lack of a girlfriend.)

When he’d gotten home he’d practically pounced on you, mouth hungrily on yours, fingers gripping your shoulders needily – he’d had to physically force himself away, rubbing himself against your hip, begging for the location of the lingerie – you’d given it to him without a fight, knowing he’d get himself changed for you.

You’d taken those few minutes to get settled back down on your bed, computer in your lap. Most of the work you did for your job was online – boring stuff, but it paid the bills all the same. He’d come into the bedroom almost shyly, looking absolutely  _adorable_  and delicious in the pink garter belt, almost the same color as the pink dusting over his cheeks or the very tip of his dick that you could see poking out of the waistband. His bottom lip had been held between his teeth, dark eyes staring up at you through his lashes, one hand gripping his other arm, the handcuffs dangling from his fingers – you’d motioned for him to come closer, slipping the handcuffs on him and then completely ignoring him.

It was basically a form of torture for him – he’d sat obediently for quite a few minutes, but Hoshi by nature was not the best at sitting still, being quiet,  _or_  being ignored, and he’d crawled up your legs, pushing your computer to one side to get your attention. You’d directed him off of one of your legs so you could pull your computer back up on it, tracing a hand down his cheek before resuming what you were doing.

So Hoshi, left to his own devices, had squirmed on your knee out of boredom, a small gasp leaving his mouth when it rubbed up against his cock through the lace fabric.

And that’s where you found yourself now – sneaking glances at him every now and then as he rolled his hips, trying to get the most friction possible against your knee. He was absolutely beautiful, every single small part of him – you could feel the wetness on the panties against your knee, could see the way his cock was freely leaking pre-come and creating a glistening spot on the lace.

“You look so beautiful, Soonyoungie. So gorgeous.” You didn’t look away from your computer, but you would have had to be blind  _and_  deaf to miss the way he instantly jerked to attention, hips slowing down to small little jerks that you knew were involuntary – you could feel his eyes burning into you, two dark pits of lust.

“ _Noona_. Noona, please –“

“So beautiful.” You repeated, bending your knee slightly for him – he gasped at the sudden extra stimulation, letting out a soft, breathy moan. “But I’m busy. You know that, right?” He whined, redoubling his efforts against your knee, thankful you’d made it easier on him.

“Soonyoungie, be a good boy and wait patiently.”

He froze, slowly sliding off of your knee, a low whine leaving his throat – he was such an obedient boy. Such a good boy. Propping himself up on his arms that were behind him, he settled down to wait – ten seconds in and he was shifting around already, the product of sexual arousal and a simple inability to sit still. You waited a few minutes, watching him over the top of your laptop as he got increasingly squirmier before you snapped it shut, sliding it to the floor. His gaze was on you instantly, forcing his body to still now that you were looking at him –

“I didn’t move.”

His words brought a grin to your face – he had clearly been moving, and you both knew it, but he wanted so desperately to be good for you.

“We both know you did, Soonyoungie –“ His face fell here, bottom lip jutting out slightly in a sad pout. “But it’s okay, baby boy. You did good.”

His face brightened instantly, nearly beaming at you – he loved to be praised. You spread your legs, creating a space in front of you that he instantly took after you motioned him forward with a crooked finger.

“You didn’t touch yourself all day, did you?”

Hoshi shook his head frantically, eyes wide, pupils blown with lust. He was on his knees, resting back on his calves, arms behind him to help his balance. (Not that he needed it.) You ran your fingers lightly down the tops of his thighs, watching the way his muscles tensed and untensed under your touch, hands coming to a stop to rest on his knees.

“You look so cute like this, you know. All dolled up and beautiful for me.” You watched his Adam’s apple bob when he swallowed thickly, wanting nothing more than to bite it and mark up the skin. “I should get you a matching choker. Would my baby boy like that? Maybe a blindfold too?”

Hoshi nodded eagerly again, jaw working as he wrestled with himself over whether or not to speak – you traced your finger along his cheek, prompting him to speak up. No matter what you bought for him, you refused to buy him a gag. As pretty as his lips would look stretched around a pink ball gag, you liked the pretty sounds he made more, the way his tongue would dart out to wet his lips.

“Lace?”

“Huh?” You’d gotten so caught up in your thoughts about him that you’d completely forgotten he’d had something to say – he shifted, face dusting a pretty pink again, the hands handcuffed behind his back gripping onto each other nervously.

“Could – could the choker – could it be lace, Noona?” His voice had become softer and more submissive, his gaze dropping down to your shoulder instead of your face – you gently directed his eyes back to yours, thumb rubbing across his lower lip. He was such a sucker for lace.

“Of course, baby. Whatever you want.”

He brightened instantly again, leaning forward to nuzzle against your cheek – his dancer’s balance really came in handy in these circumstances – keening softly in appreciation when you turned your head and drew him into a kiss. His tongue was incredibly soft against yours, gentle and stroking all the right sensory spots in your mouth when you let him take control – he was a grade A kisser, and it always made him happy when he could make his Noona feel good like this, so you rarely dominated the kisses in situations such as these. (Situations where you were just getting started, where you knew you’d have more chances to completely dominate him later.)

When you finally broke apart he was panting, lips glistening and kiss-swollen, chest heaving and covered with a thin sheen of sweat. He was so gorgeous.

“So beautiful, baby. You’re so pretty.” Your hands slid up his chest lightly, loving the way he shuddered slightly and let out the softest of gasps, completely pliant under your touch,  _trusting_  you with everything he was. You were so lucky.

Your hands ran up and down his sides lightly, lovingly, thumbs pressing down a bit harder than the rest of your fingers.

“Was it hard, Soonyoungie? Hiding  _this_  from everyone else?” You ran the tip of your finger down his lace covered cock, watching his expression intently, the way his face scrunched up in tortured pleasure, the way his hips jerked forward slightly to try and gain more friction. He nodded tensely again, shifting again for the sole purpose of moving.

“Y-yeah – I tucked it up –“

“Like it is now?” You questioned, dragging your finger back up and letting it rest lightly on the head, other hand sliding down to his hips to keep him from bucking against your hand. “Did it work? Or did the fabric just make it worse?” You knew your boyfriend too well – and you knew you’d guessed it right when he whined softly.

“Every time I moved it got worse – I messed up so many times the other guys thought I was sick..” He was pouting now, and you pressed a kiss to his chin before showering his face in them, not liking that expression on him.

“I’ll make it up to you, Soonyoungie. I promise.”

“I know, Noona.” He was smiling again – albeit a shy one - a look you vastly preferred over his admittedly adorable pout from before. Your heart swelled in your chest - he was so beautiful, so gorgeous, and so  _in love_  with you that he trusted you enough to let you do all of this. And you appreciated it – maybe that was why you loved to make him feel good, loved to watch his face contort in pleasure.

You slid your hands back up his sides, thumbs going to rest on his nipples. They weren’t hyper-sensitive, but that didn’t mean they didn’t feel good when you touched them, indicated by the way he arched into your touch, dark eyes staring at you expectantly. They’d pebbled under your fingers, his breath catching in his throat when you circled them with your thumb, teeth biting down on his lip.

“Noona..” You could tell it was a request as well as an appreciative moan to you, and you nodded to signify that he should continue. “Can we – can we put my arms in front, noona? Please?” You didn’t say anything, leaning forward to reach behind him and help him out of one of the handcuffs, sliding his wrist back in it after he obediently put his arms back in front of you.

“You can’t touch yourself though, okay baby?”

He nodded, settling his fisted hands down on his knees. He seemed vaguely uncomfortable, gaze roaming over your face and dropping back down to his hands every so often – he was clearly fighting to shift around, more aroused than he was letting on.

Then again, the pink of the panties he was wearing had been dyed a whole shade darker by the amount of pre-come his cock was leaking.

“What are you in the mood for, hmmn? Do you want something inside of you?” You knew that one of your Hoshi’s favorite toys was the vibrating dildo you had bought him when the two of you had first started getting kinky – you weren’t sure if it was for sentimental reasons or if you’d just managed to buy a good one on your first try, but it never failed to bring your boyfriend to multiple orgasms.

That’s why you were so surprised when he shook his head, placing his arms around your neck hesitantly, though not nervously. You weren’t a  _strict_ dominant, luckily for him. He ended up breaking all the rules most of the time.

“I just want Noona.” It was a simple and heart-wrenchingly sweet request, and one you could give him, but it was a bit too vague in your opinion, and he could see that on your face. “I want Noona to touch me.” He corrected, mirroring the smile you sent to him, fingers tugging gently at the collar of the t-shirt you were wearing. His joyful expression changed to one of confusion when you gently pushed his arms away from your head, gently laying him on his back.

“Doesn’t Noona want to feel good too?” It was an innocent question and you smiled to yourself when you heard it, stretching his arms above his head and pressing down on his wrists to silently instruct him on what to do. (Like a good boy, he left his arms there after you let go.)

“Making my baby boy feel good is enough for me – tonight’s all about you, Soonyoungie.” Perhaps the way you mixed pet names was odd, but using his real name always made sure his attention was extra focused on you, and that’s something you wanted him to know – that tonight really was all about him.

You focused mainly on his upper body then, licking and sucking marks all over his chest, loving the way he writhed and stuttered out “yes, Noona,  _yes_ ” and “ _ffuuuuckkk_ ” and kept his arms above his head like the fucking perfect, beautiful submissive he was. The reds and purples that bloomed across his chest you knew he’d hide – not from shame, but out of necessity. He was definitely not shameful of them, egging you on to give him more and more with each little gasp and moan and “harder, Noona,  _harder_  please” he gave you.

He arched his back off the bed when you placed the flat of your tongue against one of his nipples, swiping your tongue over it a few times before sucking on it harshly – you watched him through your eyelashes, the way he cried out and screwed his eyes shut, arms trembling above his head. You knew he desperately wanted to grab at your shoulders – instead they dug themselves into the blanket on the bed, holding on tightly to remind himself not to move them. When you moved to give the other one the same treatment he gasped your name – your  _real_  name – and that earned him a sharp bite that had him mewling a whine out into the air.

“What’d you call me?” You sat back, tracing a finger over all the dark marks you’d left on his chest – he was panting, chest heaving with effort.

“Noona –“

“That wasn’t it, baby.” Still, you couldn’t get angry at him for a simple slip-up like that – maybe you could have some other time, when you were more serious and dominating, but right now it seemed like a cute accident to you.

He was staring at you with wide eyes – he knew he’d messed up, and that usually entailed a punishment of some sort, mostly in the form of orgasm denial or edging, neither of which he exactly liked. (That’s not to say he  _hated_  them – it just drove him crazy, sometimes.)

“It’s okay.” His mouth opened to protest, thinking you were acting flippantly to prove a point – you shushed him softly, covering his mouth with your hand. “It’s okay, baby. You’re too gorgeous for me to get angry at – and it won’t happen again, right?” He didn’t say anything, couldn’t with your hand over his mouth, kissing your palm instead in way of agreeing. Despite everything happening it was a cute and sweet gesture, and while it should have killed the mood, your heart instead fluttered at it.

“Such a good boy.” You praised affectionately, hand finally touching him where he wanted it most – the underwear was practically ruined at this point, but you didn’t see the point in telling him this, especially with the long moan of “fucking  _hell_  Noona, please, finally,  _please_ ” Hoshi let out. His hips canted up into your hand, arms tense above him, fingers gripping the blanket with a death grip – the stimulation wasn’t enough for him and you knew it, not unless you wanted him crawling toward his orgasm, but that didn’t stop him from trying to get the most out of it. (And you’d done that a couple of times before, of course. It just wasn’t what you had planned for tonight.)

You readjusted the underwear for him, letting the head of his pretty cock stick out more at the top – he jerked away when you ran a finger along its sensitive tip, collecting another little bead of pre-come on your finger.

“Noo- _naaa_..” It was a gasping, moan-filled plea, one you wondered about acknowledging – how much farther could you take the teasing before it became a sort of torture to him? (And again, you’d done that to him before, but that wasn’t your goal tonight.)

“Soonyoungie –“ He perked up at the sound of his name, forcing his eyes open to look at you. He was so beautiful, spread out beneath you like this, waiting for whatever you did to him. “Sit up.” He hastily struggled into a sitting position, unable to resist the urge to grind into his hand-cuffed together hands – he keened when you grabbed his wrists and forced his hands out in front of him, slipping one of his wrists out of the cuff to push it behind his back and cuff them behind him, again. He started to protest, catching your gaze and deciding that as far as punishment’s go, this one wasn’t all that bad.

“Let  _me_  make you feel good, Soonyoungie.” He nodded instantly, tongue darting out to wet his pink lips in anticipation. He already felt bad about breaking your no-touching rule – he trusted you and your ability to make him feel amazing, and to break the rule was to say the exact opposite.

“Come here, baby.” You pulled him forward by grabbing his supple ass cheeks – his breath hitched, catching in his throat at the rough way you handled him – dragging him the last few inches so that he was directly in front of you, knees even with each other while he rested back on his calves. Tapping his knees, you forced his legs open – you didn’t have to force much, he opened them pretty easily – taking a moment to just gaze at him, how beautiful he looked with his knees spread and arms locked behind his back. (You might have been overusing the word  _beautiful_ , but that’s exactly what Hoshi was – beauty personified and wrapped up in cute lingerie for you.)

The garter belt had a clasp on the back, much like that of a bra, but you didn’t bother with it, reaching in and drawing out his cock, admiring how it was beautiful, just like the rest of him. It was slick with pre-come already, but you still reached over for the lube – you didn’t want to accidentally hurt him, especially with the way it’d been rubbing up against fabric all day – he sighed softly when you drizzled it onto the head of his dick, fingers spreading it down his shaft. (You weren’t sure what kind of lubrication it was – Astroglide?? Maybe?? – you’d let Hoshi deal with buying it, something he’d gotten all blushy over. It was cute, but you knew he was glad you’d let him choose, especially when it’d be used mostly on him.)

You stroked him leisurely at first, grip relatively loose, thumb swiping over the head every time your hand came back up – he was already a moaning mess, and you hadn’t even done much to him yet, his hips trying to thrust up into your hand.

“Does it feel good, Soonyoungie?” He nodded breathlessly, not daring to ask you to speed up in case you decided to stop all together. “Do you want me to blow you?” The lube was a problem, but you could get it off if that’s what your baby boy wanted.

“Can – ngh – can Noona kiss me instead?” You fulfilled his request immediately, pressing your lips to his greedily – he tasted distinctly, a weird mix of peppermint and cinnamon that was simply how Hoshi tasted – adding your second hand to the blowjob you were giving him, rubbing your palm over the tip in a circular motion. He broke into a shuddering mess immediately, abandoning the kiss he asked for in favor of panting out a stream of moans and curses.

Hoshi was never a  _quiet_  lover – he got way too into the feelings and the bliss, and he’d moan and talk freely and basically never shut up once he hit a certain point, even if instructed otherwise. Some people might find it annoying – you found it cute, border lining erotic at times.

He’d hit that point a few seconds ago, and he was constantly moaning out “Noona, please,  _don’t stop please_  oh my god –“ or “fuck, yes, fuck  _fuck_ ” – it was barely coherent, but you knew the overall meaning of those phrases.

“Noona, I’m gonna – gonna – mgh,  _fuck_  Noona - !” He moaned lewdly, muscles taught, mouth hanging open, jerking his hips up into your hand – you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the sweaty skin at the base of his throat, feeling his pulse beneath your lips.

“You can come baby, it’s okay, go on.” Your voice was soft, calm, and clear, commanding and relaxing for Hoshi – he came with a strangled cry, back arching towards you, beautiful and exquisite as you milked him of his orgasm, the come spilling over your hand and creating a mess on the bed and pink lace you hadn’t bothered to remove. He shuddered, collapsing forward and against your shoulder, panting loudly against your neck, arms resting weakly against his back – to say he was exhausted was an understatement. Your blood pulsed in your veins hotly – you knew your own underwear was going to be wrecked after this, but this was Hoshi’s night, after all, so you couldn’t complain.

The sun had been sinking low in the sky when Hoshi had gotten home, but by now it was truly dusk, the pinks and purples from the window painting the room and Hoshi’s back a myriad of colors that could never hope to be captured on canvas.

“Soonyoungie~ Didn’t that feel good?” He whimpered against your shoulder when you began moving your hand again, finger from the other lightly rubbing against his frenulum.

“T-too much Noona – Noona,  _please_  that’s too much, please stop, stop,  _stop_ –“ He was practically sobbing into your shoulder, squirming away from you and falling back onto the bed, arms beneath him – you chased him relentlessly, kissing away the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “No” wasn’t your safeword, and when it came to things like this you knew that no didn’t mean no – you’d never want to hurt Hoshi, though, so you always had to check.

“Safeword, baby?” He didn’t respond, just choking out a long moan while you overstimulated him – you didn’t have to worry anymore, knowing now that his protests were just automatic reactions to the intense pleasure he was feeling. “It’ll turn into pleasure soon, baby. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

His eyes slid open, focusing on your calm voice and beautiful face – and you really were beautiful to him, a goddess that could dominate him and bring him to levels of bliss and pleasure he never knew existed – and suddenly he hit that point you were talking about, the pain bleeding into an exquisite heat that had him fucking up into your hands, orgasming with a shout of your real name as his own come marked his chest in streaks of white, back coming clear off the bed as his second orgasm in five minutes ripped through his body. He was a shaking, trembling mess beneath you, a puddle of arousal and sexual desire beneath your fingers. The power trip you got from him was intoxicating.

Three seconds into his post-orgasm spasms you started jacking him off again, faster than the two times before – he opened his mouth in a silent yell, voice cracking and fading off at the pitch he couldn’t possibly couldn’t make – it only took him twenty seconds before he was orgasming again, spasming so hard that you wrapped an arm around his upper shoulders to make sure he didn’t hurt himself somehow.

You were glad you had grabbed onto him, because he collapsed backwards almost immediately, almost falling back on his handcuffed hands at an awkward and painful angle – you drew him forward lovingly, letting him curl up against your chest, arms still awkwardly behind him. Your hand was sticky with the lube and his come, but you reached behind him to help slide his hand out of one of those lace handcuffs – his arms automatically wrapped around your shoulders, clinging to you as he shuddered periodically, hips jerking forward subconsciously, still riding out the lingering effects from his last orgasm. He was making a mess of your t-shirt, the come on his stomach from his second orgasm being smeared into the fabric, but you really couldn’t find yourself to care.

You pressed a kiss to his hairline, laying him down beside you – he took another shuddering breath, eyes sliding shut in exhaustion, hand coming up to grip your bicep tightly, letting you unclip the garter belt and slide it off of his unresponsive body.

“I’ll be right back, baby boy.” You whispered softly to him, catching the flailing hand he tried to reach for you with and placing it back on the bed after removing the other handcuff. “Right back. Promise.” You tossed both lacey items into a chair nearby, heading to the bathroom to wet a towel – you yanked off your t-shirt while you were at it, shrugging on a robe you wore after showers - before heading back to your gorgeous boyfriend.

He was watching you again, sleepily and with a love-struck expression on his face that only grew when you began wiping down his body, cleaning him up tenderly.

“S’cold..” He murmured, laughing softly at the kiss you placed on his now clean stomach in way of apology before crawling up beside him and letting him curl back up against your side.

“You did good, baby, so good. My beautiful Soonyoungie. I’m so proud of you.” He preened under your praise, nuzzling his face into your neck to press a multitude of kisses there.

“My Noona’s so good to me~” You could feel him smirk against your neck, his fingers playing with the border of your robe while you pressed feather-light kisses all over his silver hair. “She makes me feel so good.” That was your playful boyfriend, the one that liked to make sure you knew how perfect and great at pleasing him you were – he wasn’t your beautiful baby boy anymore, pliant and needy under your touch.

“No one’ll ever make you feel as good as I do, Soonyoungie.” It was a promise, but the two of you giggled over it together, connecting your lips in a sloppy kiss.

“I know – no one’s as good as Noona.”


	2. Maybe You'll Catch Me [Sub!Jihoon/Reader]{NSFW}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Can I request a Woozi x reader where woozi hasn't told the reader he is submissive yet. But while the reader is at work he puts on some lingerie and a choker while masturbating with a vibrator. The reader comes home early and catches him in the act and it leads to something very steamy."_  
>  **Warnings:** Cross-dressing?, riding, choking sort of, vibrator usage  
>  **Written on 10/02/18**

“Always black..” He mumbled, placing the choker against his throat to clasp it in the back. He would have preferred it to have been a lighter color, but.. well, you didn’t really seem to own any chokers in those shades.

At least it matched the lingerie of yours he’d swiped – also black, a sexy color on you that he felt under different circumstances would be too bold a color on him. (Different circumstances meaning he actually had a  _choice_  in what he chose.) The underwear – really just a scrap of lace – was surprisingly snug when he pulled them up his legs, and he was momentarily worried he’d end up ripping them before they seemingly fit around his waist like they belonged there. Oh, you’d be so angry at how easily he fit your clothes – he couldn’t help smirking at that thought. You were so cute when you got miffed.

He took an extra-long moment to look at himself quietly in the full-length mirror the two of you had in the bathroom, eyes lingering particularly on how the lacy fabric clung to his hips and cock, how the choker contrasted against the fragile skin of his neck. A messy mix of excitement, arousal, and guilt bubbled up in his chest at the sight, and he messed with his bangs subconsciously as his thoughts ran wild.

It wasn’t that he felt  _guilty_  per say about wearing your stuff – he’d wash it, after all, and you’d never minded sharing necklaces or bracelets before. It was more of a case that if you caught him he’d just be..  _embarrassed_. It was the same principle behind catching someone masturbating. The act itself wasn’t shameful but being caught was.

He fiddled with the choker at his neck, aligning it until it was just so, flush against his skin – he wondered if he should take a picture of himself, knowing how good he looked. Maybe that would be an easier way to broach the subject with you? Or maybe you’d just automatically know what he wanted? You always seemed to give off an air of dominance that made him swoon – internally, of course – but you never seemed to act on it..

Not that he cared, of course. It was just something that had popped into his head.

The plans Jihoon had for today wasn’t really anything concrete – try on the lingerie, see where that went, make sure everything was perfect and hidden again before you got home. He’s not entirely sure where to go to do this – or what  _this_  is – so he heads towards your shared bed. It’s a favorite place of his for a multitude of reasons, but when you’re not there it’s the easiest way for him to feel closest to you. Your scent still clings to it, after all. The lace of the underwear is apparent to him every single time he moves, a slow prod at his sanity that he does his best to ignore, the urge to touch himself in some way to abate that feeling growing.

That desire at least helps him make up his mind on what he wants to do, clambering off the bed again while swallowing thickly in anticipation. He heads for the place the two of you keep the vibrator, plucks it up and fits it in his hand easily – he’s used it on you so many times before that he doesn’t even blink twice at it, settling back down the bed as he flicks it on. It may be a small bullet vibrator but you’ve always claimed it packs a punch, something he’s never really had the chance to attest to.

Trying it out now, he’s shocked at what it feels like and how  _true_  your statement was – placing it on his neck startles him with the rapid spread of electric tingles that spreads outward, harsh and heavy, and he squirms where he’s sitting at the sudden wave of arousal that rushes through him.

The lingerie is suddenly uncomfortably tight, and there’s something about the entire situation – the newness to it all, maybe – that makes Jihoon feel light-headed and urges him on, pushing the vibrator lower. It slides down his neck to his collarbones before hitting his shirt, and without thinking about it he yanks it off over his head and drops it onto the floor beside the bed.

There’s no way he could orgasm just from this stimulation alone – even if he jolts when he drags it across one nipple, eyes fluttering shut – but it feels  _good_ , good enough that he wants to continue it even if all it’s doing is teasing him.

He gets it into his head that he’s going to slide it down lower, feel it through the lingerie – but he hears the front door open and his brain short-circuits, panicking and freezing in place. That couldn’t be you, he couldn’t have taken  _hours_  doing this -

“What’s this?” You ask, being able to see  _very_  well exactly what ‘this’ was. It wasn’t a sight you’d been  _expecting_  necessarily, but it wasn’t an unwelcome one. In fact, it was just the cherry on top of today after getting to come home early from work.

Jihoon had flushed red enough he looked almost dizzy, and while he hadn’t turned the vibrator off he had scrambled for the covers, sliding his legs underneath and dragging it up to his mid-chest. He was dead-silent, dark eyes wide and ringed with a mixture of horror and embarrassment, and the vibrator continued its steady sound until you walked over to him and picked up the remote, clicking it off. You sort of wanted to try it out on him, but it seemed like something you’d want to talk about first.

His eyes never left you, and though his tongue darted out to wet his lips he still didn’t say anything.

“Jihoonie?” You’d softened your tone, realizing from his previous reaction that sardonic teasing was just going to make him skittish considering how he’d been caught. “That outfit looks familiar, right?” Your fingers danced up to his white-tipped ones, gently tugging at the sheet he had caught in a death grip.

‘Mortified’ was a good word to use to describe how he looked, now that you thought about it. Not guilty or scared, just an innate fear at being caught doing something he wasn’t sure was allowed. His fingers remained tightly curled into the bedspread, grip stronger than yours.

“No –“

“I’m pretty sure I recognized it, Jihoon.” You interrupt him, giving up on the tug-of-war battle to instead stroke the choker on his neck. “What are you so shy about? The glimpse I saw looked  _wonderful_.”

And that’s the comment that finally breaks through to him – his gaze snaps towards yours, hesitating but hopeful, gauging the sincerity of your words before slowly releasing the sheet caught in his grasp. It pools around his hips and you reach down to drag it all the way off.

He’s so beyond wonderful in the dark lingerie, contrasting so beautifully with the skin of his thighs and stomach, bringing attention to the dusky rose color of his nipples, upwards to the choker that stretches across a flawless neck. He’s ethereal, gorgeous, exquisite, and you’re kicking yourself for never thinking of or bringing up him wearing your lingerie before.

“You like it.” It isn’t a question, it’s a bold statement – he’s smiling a small smile at you now, reading your extremely open expression as you take him in, and when he arches his back sensuously in your direction your mouth is instantly dry.

This little fucker.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” You question, eyes dark, and suddenly he’s dropped his gaze to your waist, the perfect picture of demureness. You had no idea that look would ever be so fucking hot on him.

“Is it working?” He asks softly, and there’s a few long moments where your heartbeat thuds in your ears and he becomes increasingly redder and more fidgety. His skin is hot beneath your fingers when you reach out to gently guide his face up towards you. His gaze wavers but manages to stay mostly locked on yours.

And then you’re kissing. It just sort of happens suddenly, a non-verbal message sent between the two of you before you’re surging forward to claim his lips in a possessive kiss. He conforms to your touch instantly, pliant underneath the hands on his bare shoulders, lips sliding against yours. A surprised but pleasant sound is torn from his lips when you slip your tongue into his mouth, and he practically melts against you when you completely dominate the kiss.

“Safeword is the same as mine.” You rush out between kisses, and he moans his assent against your mouth, hands pressing and pulling, sliding your clothes off until you’re naked and pressed skin to skin against him. The lace is a mix of soft and scratchy against your hip, wet from Jihoon’s pre-cum beading at the tip of his barely concealed cock. You wonder if it’s from the vibrator or the kissing.

Jihoon shakes when you wrap your fingers around the fabric and slide it against the tender flesh of his dick, squeezing out more of the pre-cum, dirtying the dark fabric even more. He’s impatient for  _you_  though and he grasps weakly at your fingers, whining all the while about how he just wants you to wreck him, wants to feel himself inside of you. They’re strong and  _lewd_  words from someone who only minutes ago seemed shocked into paralyzation, but they go straight to your stomach and cause it to do a pleasurable and heated flip.

Wasting no more time you reach for and yank the lingerie down just far enough to release him from his lacy confines – he shivers when the cold air brushes against it, but it’s nowhere near the full body spasm he does when you sink slowly onto him. He always fills you in the best way, but this time it’s different – the air around the two of you is electrically charged with something intoxicating, something usually lacking when you usually have sex. It’s like the two of you have fallen into a specific niche that you’d both been subconsciously crying out for.

From your position on top of him you lean forward to press your lips against his, supporting yourself with your forearms as the two of you move your hips in perfect tandem. For a few moments that’s all you both do, and it’s almost too much, too fast, but the two of you are so lost in sensations and the moment that neither of you stop until you’re out of breath from the kissing. He can’t keep himself from still trying to thrust shallowly up into you but it’s a relatively simple matter to slam your hips down onto him and keep him immobile.

Rising you seek out the vibrator, lost momentarily amidst the sheets, before finding it and switching it on. He lets out a weak, breathy moan as you press it against one of his nipples, sliding it in a circle – when you grind your hips against his own the light moan turns into a powerful keen that makes you both weak and  _deliciously_  hungry.

You leave nips and sucks along his jawline and chin, small bruises blossoming in your wake that’ll disappear in a few hour’s time. When you bring your thumb up to trace along the choker again he presses up into it, your thumb sinking a small bit into his sensitive skin. His eyes, half-lidded as they had been before, now slipped shut, and he squirmed underneath you in complete, rapturous bliss.

He’s hot and heavy inside you, and you can feel every time he twitches or throbs as his pleasure mounts – he’s close, you can tell from the way he’s writhing, the way his moans hitch in his throat, the way his legs shake underneath you. He’s usually pretty good at making sure you cum first, but between the vibrator, your hand at his throat, and your weight on top of him and around his dick you can’t really fault the way he seems to be not fully coherent.

Leaning down to capture his lips he does his best to kiss you back as you drag the vibrator across his chest, thumb his adam’s apple, bounce up and back down again – he fails abysmally and just whines against your mouth, an act that for some reason sends heat straight to your core. He’s so fucking cute, so fucking beautiful, so  _at your mercy_..

Your orgasm slams into you suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, and you bow your back and press your forehead against his chest. The feeling is indescribable, a cool heat that washes over your body, pulses outward through your skin. Jihoon is absolutely no match for the fluttering of your inner walls around him and he orgasms himself with a hoarse and cracked cry, back arching up towards you. You find your mouth is perfectly situated next to the nipple you’d been focusing on with the vibrator, and through your post-orgasm haze you manage to switch the device off and press a kiss to the over-sensitive skin of your boyfriend. (He whines weakly in response, fingers dancing across your shoulders just to end up tightly clasped around your bicep.)

You can’t ever remember the two of you orgasming at the same time before, and the feeling knocks the both of you off-kilter for a long while. When you finally get your senses back Jihoon is gazing blankly at the ceiling, though he grimaces when you slide off of him. You grimace back, just for good measure.

“So, that was pretty amazing.” You murmur drolly, and he snorts and manages the great feat of pushing himself up onto his forearms.

“Amazing enough that you’re not annoyed your underwear is totally ruined?”

“..Ahh, fuck.” The lace is thoroughly drenched between the two of you, and while you could…  _probably_  clean it, that amount of work just doesn’t seem appealing. But something else does. “You’ll just have to make it up to me, right?”

He raises his eyebrows and just looks at you, waiting for the catch, but a smile drifts onto his face when you hook your fingers beneath his choker – a tight fit, but you manage – and bring him towards you for a kiss.

Ahh. That type of ‘making it up’. He can do that.


	3. Arousal [Wonwoo/GenderNeutralReader]{NSFW Drabble}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** _Blowjob, ejaculation on the face_  
>  **Written 11/28/16**

He was moaning loudly, tan skin flushed and legs spread wide for you. His hands were laced through your hair, pressing you down further onto his hard and dripping cock. He wasn’t normally the type to be loud, not at all, but it’d been weeks since you’d last seen each other, and the first thing you’d done when the two of you had gotten alone was dropped down on your knees to suck him.

The two of you hadn’t even bothered to tug his too-tight jeans off past his knees, and his free hand had been thrown behind him against the bed to brace himself. His bandmates were somewhere in the dorm, hearing everything, but neither of you cared. Neither of you  _could_  care at this point. He was hot and heavy in your mouth, leaking pre-come steadily, and his beautiful hips were periodically rolling into your mouth, almost choking you. You didn’t even care – both of you were too horny, too lost in the sensations to be using common-sense at this point.

His deep baritone voice stuttered out some semblance of your name, and your eyes slid open to look up at him. His cheeks were flushed, both from arousal and heat – it was his fault for wearing a damn sweater – and his legs were spread sinfully wide. His lips were wet with spit from where you had been kissing him a few moments earlier, swollen and glistening red and entirely too fucking kissable in the moment – if you hadn’t been busy sucking his dick then you would have been sucking his tongue to be sure.

“Jagi..” His voice was a rasp, dark and deep and  _tense_. “God..” Everything about him was tense, actually.

“How long has it been, baby?” He whined – legitimately fucking  _whined_  – when you pulled off his cock, and it stood proudly in the air between you two, hard and red and so fucking ready to come. It was so fucking beautiful –  _he_  was so fucking beautiful.

“Three weeks.” He managed out, hand that had been tight in your hair a moment before now softly stroking over it. Three weeks. You hadn’t seen each other for  _three weeks_.

“Did you touch yourself without me?”

“No.” His answer was instant, and it explained why he was so tense. Why you were both so tense.

“I didn’t either.” You assured, softly running your hand over the inside of his thigh. He shivered deliciously at the touch. “Is that why you’re so ready to come?” You asked, finally moving your hand to where he wanted it most – he was instantly thrusting into it, dark eyes watching you silently, calculatingly. “Are you going to show me how hard you can come, Wonu?”

He threw his head back, revealing his beautifully tanned neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he harshly swallowed. He’d gone silent, a sign signifying his release was close, his bottom lip being shredded between his teeth.

“Gonna –  _shit_  –“ He gasped, forcing his head forward at the last second to watch your face get painted in streaks of white, your hand milking him through his orgasm. He was never  _loud_ when he came – harsh gasps and grunts were as loud as he ever got. It was so fucking hot.

It was also hot for him to see your face covered in his come like that – he collapsed back on his bed, chest heaving as he drew in air, the picture burned into his mind. You mercifully had let go of his dick, moving to clean your face off – he let his eyes slip closed until the bed shifted, you cuddling up against his side. His arm automatically came down around you, pulling you closer against him, his sweater soft against your skin.

“Jagiya.” His deep voice sounded slightly thick, and a kiss was pressed to your forehead before those dark eyes of his slid open to gaze down at you. Your stomach flipped pleasantly at the intensity of his stare. “Your turn.”


	4. Touch [Sub!Seungcheol/GenderNeutralReader]{NSFW}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> _"this is something i've had in my head for a while... having seungcheol touch himself for you at his working desk, and then telling him to stop and place his hands on the desk. he needs to be a good boy. if he ask really nicely, he might get to roam his hands all over his body, gently but firmly, pinching his thighs, hips, and neck <3 <3 all you need to do is stand back and watch him fall apart, begging, and see the pleasure on his face when you do allow him to touch himself again..."_  
>  **Warnings:** Masturbation, sort of exhibitionism???, sort of voyuerism??, light begging, handjob  
>  **Written 06/27/18**

His foot is tapping out a restless staccato against the floor, pen fidgeting in his grasp – the paper in front of him was riddled with words, crossed out and circled, almost like some sort of puzzle.

“Focus.” You murmured quietly, gaze on your phone – you didn’t have to look at him to know he glanced up at you instantly, swallowing harshly, though you did anyway. Any excuse to look at him again.

Seungcheol’s dark eyes switched back to his paper once he saw you looking, knee still bouncing – he was supposed to be writing rap lyrics, but your little game was making it incredibly hard. He’d made some substantial progress during the hour, but not enough.

He hadn’t thought it’d end up like this when you’d approached him in the studio. Your hands had been all over him, your mouth hot and heavy on his, and he expected you had come to engage in less than proper activities in the sort-of privacy the studio gave. Which he had undeniably been excited for.

But it seemed like the moment you’d stirred up any feelings of arousal from him you’d stepped back and instructed him to continue working. And he had obeyed, because disobeying meant you’d probably just leave.

But it was hard. Every now and then you’d slide your chair closer – like you were now – and run your hands up his arm, along the back of his neck, across his chest.. Staying away from the most intimate parts of him just made him that much harder, aching with longing and want.

“How long are you going to tease me like this?” His deep voice has the tone of a whine, and you shoot him a sweet smile – his brow furrows at that because wow you’re cute while torturing him, but he can’t keep the small smile of his own hidden that creeps onto his face at the sight.

“You can handle it.” You answered confidently – he knows the safe word if he needs to use it, and you trust him enough to make that decision on his own. “You’re complaining a lot though.”

He sighs at you but falls silent, tapping the pen on the paper – it makes a small dot of ink that grows steadily larger, and his gaze is drawn to it, mind blank of anything other than you touching him. Or him touching him. Or anything touching him.

If he tried to write legitimate lyrics right now Jihoon would definitely laugh in his face at them. (And probably keep them for blackmail, since they’d most likely be awful and about sex. Or you. Or sex with you.)

“Five more minutes and I’ll let you touch yourself.” You promised – his gaze snapped towards you. In cases like this, you didn’t even have to say or do anything else. You being there, in the same room, and the promise of something more to come… Seungcheol’s mind worked against him and got him riled up with just the mere thought alone.

Five minutes was really no time at all, and yet it gave his brain ample time to imagine in detail at least three different sexual encounters with you, as well as how your eyes were going to be watching him touch himself in the studio. Watching him do something that should be a private act. That excited him much more than it should have, and he could feel himself hardening even more through the thin basketball shorts he had decided to wear that day.

“Okay.” Your voice is a soft breath and it causes a small shiver to run through his body, his dark eyes coming up to look at your intense ones. “You can touch yourself now, until I say otherwise.”

Your eyes are dark on him and he swallows, the weight of your gaze suffocating but also thrilling. He scoots away from the table he had been fruitlessly trying to write lyrics at, tries not to flinch at the sound of his chair scraping loudly against the floor – he’s hesitant at first, fingers only brushing across the fabric covering himself, wary of you suddenly changing your mind. When you make no indication you will he’s more self-assured, embarrassment over-powered by lust and need and want, bolstered by the strange way his insides flutter at the sight of you watching.

They’re cautious strokes, not sure how far you’re going to let him go, the fabric of his shorts and underwear only vaguely uncomfortable. What gives him the most pleasure at the moment is the veritable  _weight_  that your gaze holds as it watches him, pressing in on his shoulders and chest, making him harden more than his simple touch ever could.

“That’s enough.” You cross one leg over the other and his gaze follows it sharply, reluctantly removing his hand to pick up the pen again. After a few prolonged seconds he drops his gaze back down, trying to figure out where he’d been in the lyrics. (It didn’t really matter. After a certain point they lost all coherency and rhythm and were ultimately useless, and he definitely wasn’t going to be doing much better under the current circumstances.)

The silence stretches on and on, and while it’s not uncomfortable Seungcheol still shifts around every now and then. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable but his erection was, his hearing sharply attuned to your soft breathing. Gooseflesh broke out over his arms despite the fact that the room wasn’t cold at all. The anticipation was really getting to him, and the words he’d attempted to write looked almost like a child had written them.

“Again.” He jolts to attention at the sound of your voice, eager to please, eager to do  _whatever_  you ordered. “Under your shorts this time.”

That order is just as easily followed as the first, maybe more eagerly, papers easily forgotten as he slips his hand between the two articles of clothing, wrapping his fingers around his cock. The fabric of his underwear is only slightly more forgiving than the combined fabrics of both clothes but the minute change makes a world of difference and he is quicker to come undone, growing heavier in his own hand as the minutes tick by.

And you’re watching him – oh, he fucking  _knows_  you’re watching him without even having to look, but he does anyway, makes a soft sound at the intense look caught in your eyes, the way your posture is still prim and relaxed, as if the way he was shaking in pleasure was nothing more than an amusing spectacle.  _Fuck_  does that make him throb, make a moan of want bubble up in his chest and get lodged in his throat.

“Stop.” This time it’s much harder to retract his hand, but he does so anyway with a deep breath through his nose, biting back the protesting whine that threatens to escape him as he does so, trying to fool himself into thinking he’s actually concentrating on the papers in front of him again. God, he’s so hard he  _aches_  and you’re watching so closely, watching for a slip-up, drinking in the way his hands tremble slightly.

“Don’t move.” You murmur softly, but he hears it loud and clear, stills himself as your hands drift across the planes of his chest, harsher over his nipples but never lingering long enough, never hard enough to get through the fabric of his shirt. He jerks at your touch occasionally but his hands stay firmly planted on the desk and you seem satisfied by that.

It’s some sort of strange, blissful torture and he’s so close to speaking up, to saying  _something_ , but you drop your hand to his extremely obvious erection and palm it harshly, none of the previous teasing touches evident at all. He groans throatily at the feeling, slides down slightly in the chair while trying to move his hips closer to that blessed hand of yours.

The fabric is vaguely sticky beneath your hand but you pay it no mind, fingers trailing the entire length of his heavy cock, focusing on the head through the fabric, where most of the moisture that had seeped through had gathered.

You continue your ministrations for some time, delighting in the way he catches his bottom lip between his teeth, the way his dark eyes flicker to yours periodically and lock gazes before inevitably looking away as the pleasure would break in waves against him, hips twisting when you remove your hand suddenly. He had been  _so close_  – and he had a feeling you’d known it.

“Please –“ His voice cracks, entire being aching for touch, for the completion it can bring –  _god_  he wants to cum so badly, his fingers curling into fists on the table, nails biting into his palm as he forces himself not to move, not to disobey you. He can’t even pretend to focus on the sheafs of paper in front of him anymore, eyes squeezed shut before flashing open as the darkness behind his lids are invaded by any number of sexual images that in no way helps his predicament.

“Steady, Cheol.” Your voice is soft and calm, a tether to the real world – and also right by his ear, your arms drifting around his upper chest, head tilted to slot itself against his shoulder, lips against the side of his neck. Seungcheol jerks at the slight touch, moans wantonly at the feeling, at the mere promise of what those lips  _could_  be doing.

“Please, babe – I  _need_  –“ He is definitely not above begging, not after being edged for so long, but you shush him softly and let your hands slide down his chest.

“You’ve been so good, obeying every order I gave.” You murmur softly, eyes trained intently on his face, the expression he makes when his eyes slip closed again, like he’s stuck in some sort of raptured, tortured bliss. “I think you deserve a reward for that. Do you want me to touch you, baby? Want me to let you fall apart?”

Seungcheol’s rough voice just whimpers at your words, and there’s something visceral and fulfilling about the way such a dominant and self-assured and over-all confident man can be reduced – no,  _elevated_  – to something like this, sounding wrecked and putting his absolute everything in your hands.

Your fingers continue their path until they rest at the waistband of his shorts, but you’ve promised him a reward and you intend to give him one, not hesitating to slide one of your hands between fabric and skin, wrapping around him. Pre-cum has basically drenched him at this point and your fingers meets little friction as you pump him, skin gliding on skin. His hips buck forward at the touch, head thrown back at the sudden and over-whelming pleasure.

“I –  _fuck_ , I’m –“ It’s supposed to be a warning to you but he can’t manage to formulate a full sentence before he’s orgasming hard, hips thrusting into your hand, his own hands grappling uselessly at the desk in front of him, wrinkling up one of the papers covered in ink. His release is hot on the back of your fingers and wrist, a slight sheen added to his shorts where some of it seeps through. That’d be interesting for him to deal with – later.

“You’re perfect.” The compliment only barely manages to get through to him but in the end it does get recognized, a half-smile tugging at his lips even as he lets the haze of his orgasm cloud the rest of his mind. Your own lips press kisses along his jaw and cheek, slowly extracting your hand in the meantime – it sparkles white in the harsh fluorescence and Seungcheol pulls a face at it, reaching for a box of tissues for you. (You kiss him again on the cheek for the thoughtful gesture.)

“Anything important?” You ask, gesturing to the crumpled piece of paper while simultaneously cleaning off the remains of his orgasm from your skin – Seungcheol stops his analyzation of the mess he’d made of his shorts and looks curiously at the offending object, snorting when he realizes what it is.

“No, not really. Unless you think Jihoon is going to be interested in a thinly veiled rap about sex?” He laughs and you laugh along with him, even though you’re fairly certain Jihoon  _would_  be interested in it – that boy made more dirty acrostic poems than anyone you’d ever met, and he would absolutely kill to have that type of dirt on Seungcheol.

“Maybe it should stay like that.” You advise, mirth coating your voice before you lean down to press your lips against his. It’s alarmingly chaste considering everything you’d just done, but he leans into it like it’s one of the best things he’s ever experienced, hand coming up to rest on your cheek, and you fall in love with him all over again.

“I’ll be stuck in here a while,“ Whether he’s talking about finishing the lyrics or just waiting for the majority of people to go home before trying to sneak out with his shorts ruined, you’re not sure of, but he continues, “So I’ll see you at home?

“Of course.” He presses his lips to yours one last time, your fingers brushing through his hair to make it seem a little less like he’d just been wrecked in his studio before exchanging I love you’s and goodbye’s. While he was no doubt thinking about work, you were thinking about how best to make tonight  _memorable_.

Oh yes, you’d definitely see him at home later.


	5. Common Occurrence [Sub?Joshua/GenderNeutralReader]{NSFW}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Could you do a fic with either sub!jihoon or sub!joshua where they have wet dreams and they have to finish themselves off because their s/o isn't there? Thx!!" ___  
>  **Warnings:** Wet dreams, masturbation, fantasization, grinding?  
>  **Written 12/31/17**

It’s an occurrence that’s becoming more and more common, breath gasping out between his lips softly without him knowing, muscles tensing on their own accord, waking up before his roommates flooded with embarrassment and an intense need to hide what had happened.

He told himself it was normal – you being basically across the world from him would inevitably affect him.

It was normal to have wet dreams when you were fucking 22 years old. It was normal to wake up so hard it hurt and have to desperately hope no one was in the bathroom so he could lock himself in there and take care of it.

To be perfectly honest, Joshua was completely over it. He was over waking up panicked, desperately listening to his roommates, hoping Seungkwan was still asleep. He’d been lucky so far. (He wasn’t really all the worried about Seokmin. He slept through everything, and Joshua assumed he had never been caught because of the main vocal’s tendency to make enough noise in his sleep for three people.)

The dreams were worse the nights he actually got to talk to you on the phone – more vivid, more memorable – and yet he would never not take a call from you. He loved you too much. (And maybe, secretly, deep down, he enjoyed those dreams. Just not the result of them.)

Tonight is no different.

“ _Josh_..” Your voice is a soft whisper, caressing over his skin, fingers tracing up his arm and across his shoulder. Your lips press against the back of his neck and he suppresses a shudder, fingers wrapping around your wrist and bringing it to his lips for a kiss.

Your chest presses against his back as your hand slides around his front, toying with the hem of his shirt. His mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton, drained of all saliva. He cranes his head back, searching for your lips, and instead is met with the skin of your neck, your murmured words of “Relax..” flowing over him as he kisses at your jaw. Your fingers are smooth along the small expanse of skin between his waistline and shirt that you’ve tugged up slightly

“Oh..” It’s all he can manage to say, something his brain doesn’t have to try and figure out if it’s in proper Korean or English, a sound that gets his point across without needing more words, more explanation. His arousal seemed heightened, even to him, and his grip is weaker than he thought when you effortlessly pull your wrist from his hand. It slips under his shirt quicker than he can follow, sliding hard over a dusky rose-colored nipple before your fingers brush lightly against it – he arches into that hand, his plea dying on his tongue as your other hand wraps around his already leaking cock, hot and heavy in your hand.

“Relax..” You whisper again for the umpteenth time, breath tickling his cheek as you lean back slightly, nipping at the skin behind his ear. For some reason he can’t move – doesn’t really want to move, either – as you languorously move your hand up and down, dragging it slowly over the flesh before gathering some of the slickness at the tip to smear back down his length.

It’s torture and he’s addicted to it.

It feels too good, somehow working too fast, much faster than normal, and he knows he’s close, can feel it building and wrapping around the base of his spine, coiling in his stomach -

He wakes slowly, fuzzy mind trying and failing to comprehend whatever it is Seokmin’s saying. The intense feeling of arousal slams into him first, and he twists in his bed, rolling over so he’s facing the wall, back to the rest of the room. His hand is already traitorously rubbing at himself through his basketball shorts, and he’s not at all surprised to find the fabric damp. (Surprised, no, but immensely annoyed, yes.)

His shoulders relax slightly when he realizes Seokmin’s just mumbling something about food in his sleep – he can hear an annoyed curse from Seungkwan’s direction, but the light coming in through the window is faint and Joshua knows the younger will just go back to sleep.

Joshua moves slowly, half because he doesn’t want to wake anyone all the way up and half because he’s still only half awake, grabbing one of the extra pillows at the top of his bed to slide it down between his legs. It brushes against him and he sucks in a breath. He’s so,  _so_ hard now, the hand he’d removed to grab the pillow just  _aching_  to be back on his hard-on, to wrap around it and roughly stimulate it until he came.

He didn’t do this often – read, he hadn’t done this in literal years – as he was usually too worried about one of the boys catching him. He had an image to uphold, after all. (An image everyone mostly believed except for Jeonghan, the sly devil.) That, and this sort of masturbation really wasn’t meant for someone who usually only had a max of ten minutes to himself.

It was practically impossible for him to resist at this point though – he hadn’t been with you in literal months, and if he closed his eyes he could pretend the pillow was you, and it was just another lazy morning in your apartment where the two of you would sleepily grind against one another..

The tiniest of moans escapes him, and he’s quick to bite it back with a soft cough, hips rolling against the pillow, his legs bracing it from the other side. His mind runs rampant with naughty images of you, splayed out beneath him, his name on your mouth in the form of a moan, him at your mercy, your weight on top of his chest, his eyes on your back – he can’t focus on any distinct one and doesn’t try to, letting them all flit through his mind at a breakneck pace. He was close when he’d awoken and he’s even closer now, cock rubbing against the pillow, against the fabric of his shorts (because he hadn’t bothered to wear underwear), against the damp spot on the fabric that had become bigger.

He slides a hand under his waistband quickly, fingers wrapping around his dick to jerk twice before he orgasms, body going taught and curling around the pillow as his hips stuttered out of his control. His lower lip is shredded between his teeth, and even with all his efforts he can’t help a sound between a groan and a relieved whimper from leaving his throat.

Even through his harsh intakes of breath and pounding heartbeat he could hear the other two’s steady and sleep-riddled breathing – he’d gotten away with it again. Luckily. As the arousal drained from his system he was hit with a wave of exhaustion, though he knew before he could go back to sleep he’d need to change his shorts.. and maybe his pillow. He’d have to check.

Before he does any of this he reaches for his phone, making sure the brightness was as low as it could possibly go before opening his texts. You were just going to  _love_  to hear about this.


	6. Bath Time [Sub!Vernon/GenderNeutralReader]{NSFW Fluff}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"haiii! i was wondering if i coud request something? maybe a lil shower/bath fluff with a lil but of smut, with vernon <3 seventeen got me feelin rn & vernons wrecking my bias <3 thank you!"_  
>  **Warnings:** Sleepy/exhausted Vernon, handjob.. yeah that’s it  
>  **Written 10/03/18**

The water splashed over the side of the tub as you climbed in carefully, taking Vernon’s proffered hand to steady yourself as you slowly nestled down across from him. The water was chilled from how long he’d been sitting in it, and he let out a soft sigh when you reached between the two of you to pull the stopper, draining the old water and refilling it with new, warm water.

He was tired, that much was obvious, hair wet and pasted together in streaks across his forehead – he didn’t move when you reached forward to brush it out of his face, but his lips quirked upwards into a soft smile.

“Was I in here that long?” He asks, voice just a bit rougher than usual, exhaustion sharpening the edges of it but softening the volume.

“A little over an hour.” You respond in an equally quiet voice, gazing at him steadily – he looked like he was completely willing to fall asleep in this tub if not for his brain reminding him that he actually had something he was supposed to be doing while in it that was  _not_  sleeping. You tugged gently at his elbow and he cracked his eyes open to look at you in confusion. “Soaking in warm water is good for muscles, but you need to wash up first too before you get out. Come here.”

He allows your gentle and insistent tugging to guide him towards you, turning around so his back is against your chest, sinking down into the water a little so his head can lay back and fit perfectly against your shoulder. You smile and press a kiss to his neck and then cheek before snagging the shampoo that clearly had not been moved tonight from it’s usual perch on the shelf.

It’s simple enough to wash his hair – he keeps his eyes closed and lets out soft, relaxed sighs every now and then as you massage his scalp with the suds. A small detour is made to rub out some of the tense muscles in his neck and shoulders before you reach up to grab the shower head, turning it to the softest setting before washing his hair out for him. He takes over washing the rest of his body so you busy yourself with pressing kisses to the parts of his skin you can reach that aren’t soapy.

“You need to relax.” You grumble, rubbing at one of his biceps – he glances at you in amusement as you hinder his progress but doesn’t actually comment on it. “You need to just release all your stress for the night and - …”

A thought has formed in your mind and you snap your mouth shut as you mull it over, retracting your hand – Vernon raises an eyebrow at you but ultimately continues what he was doing because he knows by now that there’s no use in trying to talk you out of whatever it was you were thinking of.

You wait until he’s basically finished before pouncing, arm snaking around him to grab hold of his soon-to-be hard-on. A soft breath stutters out through his lips and you can feel his gaze on you, lidded with exhaustion and arousal in equal measure. After another long moment he relaxes back against you again, curling his hands into loose fists on his legs. A silent okay for you to continue.

It takes a little bit of time for him to become fully hard but neither of you are in any hurry – your thumb swipes over his tip every now and then, and the pace you’ve set is slow and almost leisurely. Vernon just sucks in a breath and holds it periodically, exhaling shakily when the pleasure unexpectedly crests.

You reach for a bottle of lotion next to the array of other bottles on the shelf, glancing quickly at the back of it, scanning the ingredients for anything that would jump out at you as harmful – you don’t see anything but ask anyway, your free hand continuing its soft and unhurried strokes.

“I’ve used it before..” Vernon mumbles when he reopens his eyes, raising a hand to wrap around your own to bring it closer to his face so he can see it more clearly. “..Yeah. I’ve used it before, it should be fine.”

You chuckle and kiss his cheek at that – he’s flushed ever so slightly, color appearing high up on his cheeks, and he’s so  _fucking beautiful_  that you lean in and press your lips to his for a kiss that he reciprocates with a sort of lazy, sleepy enthusiasm. His hips have started to rock up into your hand, not huge motions but still noticeable enough.

“Drain the tub a bit.” You instruct him, flipping the cap to the lotion open – you can hear his hand grope around until it finds the stopper and pulls it, letting the soapy water drain low enough that both your legs were barely submerged before you tapped his arm and he pushed it back in.

The lotion was cool in your hand and you spent a few moments rubbing your fingers back and forth to warm it up before applying it liberally to his cock, red and hot with need. A soft, barely there whine slips through his lips at the sudden extra slide your hand has on his most sensitive part.

It’s messy and a little bit awkward, and your combined motions cause the water to crest over your legs multiple times, lapping at the bottom of your elbows on the rare chance one of you moved enough to cause it to go so high, but neither of you are complaining. He’s clearly feeling good and you’re perfectly happy with that outcome.

“I love you.” It’s a quiet murmur, so quiet you barely hear it over the lewd sounds of the lotion and the water, but you hear it all the same and lean forward to press your smile into his cheek.

“I love you too – so much – that’s why I want you to be able to relax and have a good night’s sleep tonight.” You keep your voice just as quiet as he kept his, peppering his neck with soft open-mouthed kisses that he leans into, tilting his head away from you to expose more skin for you to give the same treatment.

His orgasm creeps up on him and he’s visibly surprised when he realizes it’s there, a deep groan being torn from his chest as he released into the already dirty bathwater. His chest heaves as his brain slowly pieces itself back together after the surprise orgasm, and you join in on his soft laughter when he finally catches his breath.

“I guess I needed that..” Vernon trails off in embarrassment, batting your hands away when you try to clean the lotion off to do it himself. “Thanks babe.”

“Mhm.” You hum, stealing a kiss from him as you carefully peel yourself away from his body, bringing the shower head with you that you only now realized you’d left hanging since you used it last. Checking again to make sure it’s on its softest setting you let it spray over your legs before aiming it at Vernon’s entire body – he wrinkles his nose when the spray hits his face but doesn’t complain about it. A fluffy towel is awaiting him when he finally,  _finally_  stands and climbs out of the bath, and he ruffles his hair with it half-heartedly before just letting it hang around his neck.

It was only a few minutes longer until he was dried off enough that he could climb into soft pajama pants and then into bed. You took a little longer, cleaning the bathroom up before putting on your own sleeping clothes and finally following him – a small burst of warmth blooms in your chest when you see him watching you quietly, forcing himself to stay awake until you join him.

Sliding in next to him your legs automatically entangle and he’s out the minute his eyes close, breath becoming even and steady in a matter of seconds. You brush your fingers through his hair – it’s still damp, but he’ll probably just wear a cap tomorrow anyway – and watch as he curls closer to you in his sleep, dropping a kiss onto his brow. You feel good for helping him get to this state of relaxation, and you combine that feeling with your love for him as you drift off to sleep as well.


	7. Take A Picture [Sub!Minghao/GenderNeutralReader]{NSFW Drabble}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"i just need something with sub minghao (if you want to write for him? he wasn't one of the people but ya know i just love my bby and he needs more attention) and a kitten kink fUCk my kinky ass is going places with this - like the first thing i thought of when i came up with this is him like tied up and whine uuUUGJHDXBJJ"_  
>  _"idk why but all i can think of is hao with a collar and pretty lingerie ugh send help - fucking trash anon"_  
>  **Warnings:** Lingerie/pantyboy, use of a collar, rope/tied up, pet nickname for Minghao is kitten?, a photography kink?? …what are these warnings  
>  **Written 02/08/18**

You’ve been especially careful with Minghao this time – he swears up and down he’s fine but you definitely don’t fucking trust that, and once he’s dressed up all prettily you take extra care when tying him up, make sure he’s not in any position that could hurt his back more in the long-run.

“I’m not fragile.” He reminds you, and you smile and clip a collar around his neck. It sits flush against his skin and has a very small bell that jingles a pleasant sound whenever he moves just right.

“I know kitten.” He smirks almost smugly at the nickname he so adores being used – you were pampering him, and he might complain if he didn’t honestly love it. “I’m going to take some pictures first, alright? You just look so good.”

“I look good all the time.”

You laugh in the face of his confidence and he grins back, watching you closely as you pull back the blinds and allow sunlight to filter through more onto his tanned skin. It gives him almost a honeyed glow and you’re suddenly very happy with your choice of yellow lingerie, the color matching nicely with his skin and hair.

His pretty cock is tucked up tight against his body with some type of sheer yellow fabric, connected to stockings that he filled in a delicious way. His hands were bound behind him with yellow rope, looser than usual – he had complained about being coddled before but you refused to tie them tighter until he was one hundred percent healed.

He schools his expression into one of innocence, gazing at you demurely underneath his lashes as you snap carefully angled pictures. There was something almost erotic about this to the two of you, and it had become a tradition, the pictures carefully hid in a vault on your phones.

When you finally place your phone down he immediately looks eager again and strains upward to meet your lips in a kiss. You gently press him back down against his throne of pillows by his shoulders, your lips traveling down to his neck and then collarbones where you suck a dark mark into the skin. He whispers something in Chinese, something you don’t understand but sounds too contented to be a curse, moving on down to his pelvis. Another mark is sucked into his skin there and this time he  _does_  curse in Chinese. (You’ve heard him say “fuck” enough in his native language that by now you’d learned to pick it out.)

And then you’re moving away and picking your phone up again, ignoring the way he sends a frustrated glare at you.

“You don’t look very cute anymore, kitten. Not when you’re scowling.”

“I want you to  _touch_  me, not  _look_  at me..” He mutters, but shifts his expression into something more akin to being irked than being upset. You’re not sure why, but it works on him. Anger was an attractive emotion on Minghao.

The longer you linger the more antsy he gets, and you decide that for both of your sakes you better touch him where he wants it most.

When you abandon your phone he falls silent obediently, head tilting back to expose his long and flawless neck when you smooth your fingers over his lace covered dick. The bell jingles and he startles at it, which makes you laugh softly while you lean down to drag your tongue over the fabric, listening to his shaky exhale at the feeling.

You spend a few more minutes spoiling him, fingers and tongue rubbing through the fabric, occasionally pulling the waistband down to flick your tongue against the sensitive head. He strains against the rope and you stop to tell him to be mindful of his shoulders, which he rolls his eyes at and responds with a put out “I know”. (He can’t hide the small smile at your concern, though, forever grateful you care.)

When you finally back away he doesn’t have the willpower to curse you anymore, and the sight you see through your camera almost takes your breath away.

He’s gorgeous, needy and flushed, lips parted and slicked with saliva. There’s a prominent dark spot at the tip of his shiny red cock, darker even than the rest of the fabric that had been drenched in your own saliva. He looks so ready to come that you freeze for a moment, caught in the moment of how good he looks.

He however is not willing – or able – to stay still for long for any more pictures, and he shifts his legs around, trying to regain some of the friction he’d had with you. It doesn’t work of course, moving the fabric of the panties in unsatisfying ways and just making him more needy and desperate.

The last picture you get has his eyes hooded and hazed over with lust, and you can tell in the picture he was begging – and he is, a strain of words mixed in two different languages that make no sense when stuck together at the random intervals he’s using them.

“Alright kitten, okay, shh.” You soothe, moving to kiss him sweetly – he refuses to take that and attacks your lips with ferocity, the bell making angry chimes along with his movements. “If you don’t behave yourself you’re not going to get to come.” You warn him sternly after you pull away, and he has the sense to look scolded but no less needy.

You love him and you’re merciful with your ministrations today so you waste no more time in sliding your hand down his chest and underneath the small bit of fabric, fingers smoothing pre-come down his shaft before wrapping around it.

With his arms restrained he’s still able to thrust into your hand, and you let him even though you’re wary of him hurting his back any more. He chases his orgasm with ruthless abandon, half-formed words dropping from his lips in strange patterns.

When he does orgasm it’s with a throaty groan, and though you disapprove of the way he held his noises back you can’t deny that it’s sexy as hell sounding. After wiping your hand off on one of the stockings – which he wrinkles his nose at – you untie him and he rips the collar off of his neck, sending you a smirk as he shakes the bell in your direction.

He allows you to undress him the rest of the way, dropping everything in a heap on the floor to be picked up and cleaned later. Maybe you’d make him do the laundry.. did he know how to wash lingerie? He should.

You nuzzle your nose against his and he’s too sleepy and contented to act all manly and nonchalant about it, smiling in the face of your affections, arms reaching out for you.

“If you roll over I’ll give you a massage.” You try to tempt him but he simply shakes his head, a smile like the sun on his lips.

“I feel fine. All of me feels fine. Perfect.” Your lips connect for a brief and lovely moment, and the arms he’s wrapped around you pull you down beside him where he curls his body around yours when you finally relent and give in.

“We’re taking a bath together later though, ‘cause you’re kind of sweaty and gross right now.” You speak into his hand that has come up to cover your mouth halfway through your sentence, and you can feel his grin against the back of your shoulder, a silent promise for reciprocation later.

He feels warm, and he seems happy, and when you pull out your phone to look through the pictures you took he props his chin up on your shoulder and points out the ones he thinks were taken well.

You felt happy and warm, too.


	8. Victory Tastes Sweet [Joshua/Reader]{NSFW}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** _Bondage, blindfolds, oral sex, penetrative sex, Josh starts out kinda subbing and ends up kinda domming, it’s not very good and i apologize_  
>  **Written 06/28/18**

His tongue trails over your skin and you shiver, feeling the way his lips curl up at the feeling. A blindfold covers Joshua’s eyes, his arms securely tied behind his back, ordered to stay on his knees, but he doesn’t seem the least concerned. Ordered to not touch you with anything other than his mouth and he smiles at the thought, latches lips onto your neck the instant you give the go ahead.

It’s only the slightest bit sloppy at first and he quickly cleans it up once he realizes where exactly you are in relation to his mouth, teeth scraping along your skin. It sends sparks through your body, tingling, white-hot behind your eyes that slip closed. You can allow these moments of falling apart – Joshua can’t see after all, but he knows what’s happening from the way your breath shudders out through your lips.

“You’re always in charge… You should just relax, babe. Let me help you unwind.” His voice is smooth and sweet, deception hiding under the kind words – and it’s not that he doesn’t mean it, you know he does. Joshua isn’t lying about wanting to help you relax.

But you know he also wants to be in control.

Dominance was a game to the two of you, a constant fight that you mostly ended up winning, and it just fueled the fires that led to Josh’s inevitable coup de tete. Sure, he liked being dominated by you, liked being at your mercy – but you know what else he liked? Fucking into you, hearing your sweet moans as he took you again and again, mouth tangling with yours, nails raking down his back.

In a way, he knew this current situation was a compromise – he was in charge of your pleasure, even if he was also the one inhibited by a blindfold and silken bonds. But he was greedy and knew exactly how to play you to get what he wanted. (And you knew how to play him, so he was never worried about that. He just resigned himself to it and went with the flow.)

His lips trail lower, teeth scraping over your collarbone, and you shiver when he pulls away just enough to blow against the wet trail he’s left, flicking his arm when he chuckles at the feeling of it.

“Josh.” It’s a stern warning, and even with his plan to eventually get what he wanted he knows better than to push his luck at this current moment.

He mouths at the curve of one of your breasts, latching his mouth onto the pebbled nipple – he moves on far too quickly to really leave you satisfied, lingering just long enough to allow a little bit of moisture to pool between your legs. You know he’s trying to tease you, goad you into doing what he wants, and god damn it, it’s working.

A hickey is left on your ribcage, your pelvis, the inside of your thigh, a visible trail to show the path he took, tingling out across your skin like tiny little electric shocks to your system. He lingers for too long around your core, trying to tease you more, drag out the anticipation, and you have absolutely no qualms with fisting your hand in his hair, dragging his face to where it’s supposed to be.

He grunts at the harsh tug at his scalp, groans as the smell of you floods his system – he opens his mouth automatically, mouth attaching to your pussy, tongue laving at your folds and periodically dipping in between them, flicking against the small nub seated higher. Oral sex is something he takes very seriously, something he enjoys immensely when he’s the one performing it, the feeling of being completely at the others’ mercy while simultaneously being completely in charge of their pleasure, making them tremble and fall apart with his mouth alone.

His tongue delves deeper and he works his face in as close as he can, your juices slicking his face and nose – he doesn’t care, moans softly at the feeling and latches his mouth onto your clit, sucking and reveling in the throaty moan it rips from you, the way your fingers tighten in his hair more before releasing and gripping his shoulder.

He’s tempted to keep going, to slip his tongue in deeper and bring you to orgasm, lap up your taste for hours – and god knows you wouldn’t complain, Joshua was a fucking pro with his tongue and your body was being wracked with countless tremors as he forced you to creep closer and closer to the brink – but he had other, preconceived plans.

Suddenly he’s pulling away and you’re struggling to keep the whine from your voice as your eyes snap open, taking in the damp fabric of the blindfold, the smirk on his face that was equal parts annoying and ridiculously handsome.

“You know, babe, you’d feel a lot better if you let me use something other than my tongue – “

“Oh shut up and come here.” You huff, fingers gripping his shoulder more tightly and dragging him forward as you hastily undo the silk binding him – the instant it’s loose enough Joshua forces them apart, shrugs them to the floor and smooths his hands up your sides, cupping your breasts, thumbs tweaking over your nipples.

“Oh..” You breathe softly at the feeling and Joshua’s smirk is pressed against your lips, tongue slipping into your mouth. He may be physically in control now but he loses control of the kiss, groans softly as you dominate it. If anyone asked, he’d blame the blindfold. (Not that it really affected his kissing abilities.)

His cock is hard and aching, slicked with pre-cum even though it hasn’t been touched, and he lets out a weak, shaking breath when your wrap your fingers around it and guide it to your equally aching entrance. Still blind-folded - and with no intentions of removing it – he has to rely on your guidance.

You’re soaked and aching for him to complete you, and with minimal fuss he ends up sliding in easily, bottoming out with a low groan that sounds completely different from his usual voice. His fingers dig into your shoulders but you don’t care – the feeling of him buried in you so completely is something you’re positive you’ll never get over, never tire of feeling.

He grinds his hips against yours, flushing at the soft way you giggle at the wanton moan it rips from his lips. He’s almost glad he didn’t take the blindfold off, not wanting to see your expression.

“I love how needy I can make you.” Your words cut right through him and he can’t counter them with anything, just covers your mouth with his own. Even when he thought he’d managed to dominate you’d proven him wrong, said something that made his stomach flip in a pleasurable way. This was the way you usually got to dominate him – you were just better at playing the game, better at knowing what to say to get that fluttery feeling present in his stomach.

“Oh shut up.” He grumbles when he pulls away, thumbs smoothing across your jaw before he slots his lips against yours again in another searing kiss. When he finally moves his hips in an actual thrust you audibly gasp and he takes that as a point for him, bends down to suck a mark into your neck. The moan you give him in return is something beautiful and sweet and it rings in his head and sticks there for far, far too long.

The way he moves against you has always fascinated you, so fluid and smooth, like the two of you were literally made for each other. It’s a fucking clichéd thing to say and you’d never voice that out loud, but even when one of you makes a mistake – like too much teeth are added to a kiss or someone cums too early or too hard – it’s beautiful in its own right, something that the two of you can fully embrace and revel in.

Sex is supposed to be fun, supposed to be passionate and wild and loving all at the same time, or all at different times – it’s supposed to make you feel loved and treasured, make you feel strong and self-assured, make you laugh and lock the memory away someplace safe to forever remember.

And Joshua gives you all of those things, fucks you hard even when the lips he presses against your forehead are soft, pretends to be dominant even though when he orgasms it rips through him and his moans easily rival your own, smiles softly at you even if the gaze he uncovers when he slides the blindfold off is hard and lust filled.

He gives you everything and you in turn try to give everything back to him. When he laughs at the crescent-shaped marks imprinted in his shoulder you laugh at the way he’d clung to you when he lost himself in his orgasm. When he meticulously helps you clean up you gently wash his face off, check his arms for injury from the silk ropes. When he crawls into bed and opens his arms you go into them without a second thought, tuck yourself up against his chest and litter his jaw with kisses.

It’s not all give-and-take with the two of you, it’s all give-and-reciprocate, attempt to one-up each other only in the name of fun.

“I think I can count that as a successful domination.”

“Yeah right.” You mutter into his neck, his chuckle vibrating through you. “I was still in control.”

“Does that mean I have to try again later?” His voice is laced with humor, pure and beautiful, his fingers curled into your hair.

“Afraid so.” Your laughter mingles with his and he maneuvers your head to kiss you again, all sweet, no deception hiding behind it this time. You knew, without a doubt, that Joshua would try again, that he would think he had gotten what he wanted but in the end find out that  _you_  had gotten what  _you_ had wanted. You were just better at the game.

Still, that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy his attempts greatly, didn’t mean you didn’t look forward to the next time – and from the smile he presses into your temple, you’re fairly certain he didn’t mind it either.


	9. My King [Dom!Jihoon/Reader]{NSFW King-Servant AU}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** _Super super dominant Jihoon, very very submissive reader, king and servant relationship, blowjob, thigh riding, reader wears a collar, a sweet ending all things considered_  
>  **Written 02/06/18**

“Are you looking at me?” His voice is cold and strong, haughty undertones slicing you into ribbons. Your gaze is wrenched back down to his knees, having momentarily traveled up to look upon his face.

“…”

“Are you ignoring me?” His voice cuts into you again – it’s a lose-lose situation, and you know it. You aren’t allowed to speak but you’re also not supposed to ignore him. This wasn’t a game you were meant to win. This wasn’t a game you  _could_  win.

His fingers are cold as he leans down from his throne and forces you to look up at him with a solid grip on your chin. Dark eyes bore into yours, ruthless in their intensity.

“Speak.”

“No, my king.”

You wait silently for some sort of strike, for an explosion of anger, but his fingers simply continue to sit below your chin and force your face in his direction. Your gaze is resolutely past his right shoulder, focused very hard on the wall behind him. No one else is in the throne room, no one else for his attention to be on.

“You’re wearing my gift.” His tone sounds bored but you know your king better than that. He’s proud of it, and satisfied that you’d worn it, even if you didn’t have a choice. His fingers drift down to the ‘gift’ – a strip of leather around your neck, adorned with the red gems that stood for his lineage. Most servants had a simple band of brown leather, but you stood apart from them now. You were the king’s favorite.

It was obvious in the clothes you were given to wear, too. Most servants wore a simple black dress with red trim, but yours had a lower neckline and a higher hem, a sign that you weren’t to be ordered to do the more strenuous cleaning around the palace.

“You have a pretty mouth. Use it.”

You were king Jihoon’s favorite, but that didn’t mean he treated you  _nicely_.

His hands are placed carefully on the armrests of his throne, giving you the illusion you have a choice in the matter. And once upon a time, you had. At the very beginning you could have declined your king’s advances and he would have let you go without consequence.

But you hadn’t, and your fingers deftly reach forward now to draw him out of his impeccable black dress pants, still flaccid. Your chest and his knees hinder you from getting close enough to touch him with your mouth, and panic momentarily grips you before you hear him chuckle, a dark sound that reminds you of mahogany wood and honey combined.

It’s a genuine sound – your king never laughs if he’s upset – and it warms you from the inside, a sudden pulse of heat between your legs.

“If something’s the matter, you must tell me.” He says it as if it’s common knowledge, but you know if you’d spoken before now he would have punished you.

“Your knees, my king.. please move them.” Not ‘please spread them’. That would sound too dominant. You were careful.

“As you require.” You don’t dare look at him but you can hear a smirk in his voice as his legs spread and you shuffle forward to take your place between them. You were good at your job, and when you leaned forward with your hands dutifully on your knees he made a soft sound of approval. He hadn’t said to use your hands.

Your eyes slide closed as you gingerly take him into your mouth, small sucks and licks coaxing him into full hardness. It takes a few torturous minutes, just long enough that you’re worried he’s going to become bored of your ministrations, but when his hand comes down and slides through your hair you know you haven’t failed him.

When he’s hard enough you begin to suck in earnest, tongue swirling the tip, your lips gently sucking at his frenulum. His hand tightens into a fist in your hair and the dull pain causes you a sharp intake of breath that your king ignores.

“Do not stall.” He snaps at you testily but you can hear the tension in his voice – your king is young, and not nearly as patient or mature as he likes to think. He desperately wants to come as much as any young man would.

The thought amuses you though you would never let him know it and you redouble your efforts, sliding him deeper in your throat – his hand yanks at your hair and the sharp pain sends heat directly to your cunt, a whine leaving your throat to vibrate around him.

King Jihoon likes to put on a pretense around everyone else, but he has no need with you – he knows that you will never tell anyone any of his secrets, any of his weaknesses. And one of his biggest weaknesses is you, and your  _sinful_  little mouth that has him orgasming suddenly, much too quickly, thrusting into your mouth. You don’t choke, allowing him to handle you in whatever way he likes – you were used to this, and your mouth accommodates him no matter what he does, though he mercifully tugs on your hair to pull you off.

“Do your job.” His order is breathy but no less commanding, and you dutifully tuck him back in his pants and rearrange his shirt to its previous immaculate shape, fixing small wrinkles his orgasm had caused when he slid down in his seat slightly. When you are fixing his collar you can feel his eyes on you, gauging whether or not you were okay. You keep the small smile off your face.

When you are finished you settle back on your knees at his feet, eyes dutifully on his own knees, but he catches you by surprise when he grips your arm and pulls you towards him. Your eyes flash at him quickly, not quick enough to really look at him but quick enough for him to catch the emotion there.

“Be at ease.” His voice is surprisingly quiet and he guides you to sit on his leg – you go hesitantly at first, unaware if he can accustom your weight, though he does with no trouble. He clicks his tongue at the way you sit and leans forward to tap your knee insistently until you move it so you’re straddling him. Your legs spread over his leg like this make it impossible to ignore the heat at your cunt, and you worry you’re going to ruin his pants.

“What sort of king would I be if I allowed you to suffer?” You can hear the smirk in his voice but you don’t dare guess at what he means. His fingers grip your hips and with surprising strength grabs and pulls you towards him, sliding your most sensitive region over a solid thigh. It sends pleasurable tingles throughout your whole body.

“Move.” He commands, hands settling back on the armrests. You obey him quickly, sliding back on his leg and biting your lip. It’s a bit awkward, but you can’t even begin to complain. He didn’t have to do anything at all for you.

He lets you go at it for a few moments before his hand slides up to your dress’ neckline, fingers deftly sliding between fabric and skin to bring your breast out. The cool air makes your nipple peak and a soft gasp leave your lips, something he seems to like considering he draws the other one out and lets them stay like that, watching as they sit supported by the neckline, moving when you move.

His eyes are locked onto them – you know because you glance at him quickly and he doesn’t even notice, attention rapt on your chest. It’s only a matter of time when his hand comes up to feel them, frigid fingers groping at them almost too roughly.

“My king..” It’s a soft sigh and you know his attention is suddenly back on you – he could criticize you for speaking out of turn, but he doesn’t. He simply slides the fingers of his free hand under you, crooking them up and letting you drag your slit along them. Your head tilts back at the new and admittedly nicer feeling.

“Stop.” One simple word from him causes your muscles to freeze – you desperately hope he wasn’t just toying with you, and you keep your head tilted back, eyes shut, dreading whatever his next action is.

Your whole body jumps when his thumb comes to rub at your clit – he chuckles again, but this time is lighter than the first, almost gleeful. He likes being in control of your pleasure, and likes being able to elicit such a response.

And he’s relentless at it, keeping a constant pressure that drives you closer and closer to the edge, your mouth hanging open, fingers holding onto his leg and him allowing it.

“Say my name.” It’s a very quiet order from him, almost like he’s not quite sure he’s allowed to ask you this, or perhaps not sure if it’s a good idea to. “..my real name, not my title.”

“Jihoon..” It a soft and almost foreign word on your tongue, and the minute you say it your entire body locks up as complete ecstasy slams into you and you writhe on his leg, his damned thumb not letting up for a moment until you’re panting and trembling in a post-orgasmic haze.

He says nothing as you slowly return to yourself, quietly fixing your dress with trembling fingers, tucking your breasts back inside. You try to move off of him but his fingers tighten, refusing to let you go.

“You must allow me to fetch you new clothes, my king.” Your voice is unsteady and your hands are clenched into fists on his leg, knowing that both your panties and his pant-leg are now definitely dirtied.

“Look at me.” He murmurs quietly, waiting for you to obey. When you do you’re able to really focus on him for the first time tonight – his dark eyes are full of wonder, equally dark hair mussed ever so slightly. He is beautiful, though you make a note to get a brush after this to fix his hair. “You are exquisite.”

Your face heats up of its own accord. It occurs to you that you’re higher than him in this position, looking down on him – but he doesn’t seem to mind in the least, one hand on your waist and the other supporting his chin as he gazes at you in fascination.

“May I speak freely, my king?” Your words are steady and calm, and his eyebrows raise but he nods slightly at you, curious.

“Of course.”

“You are equally exquisite.” There is no suffix of “my king”, no demure gaze from below your lashes. Your gaze meets his head on, expression serious.

A smile stretches across his face.


	10. Baby Boo [Sub!Seungkwan/Reader]{NSFW}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Could you do a smut where seungkwan has a wet dream with reader as his mommy and he wakes up and gets off to the thought of being readers baby boy (or baby boo)"_  
>  **Warnings:** Wet dream?? Is that a thing that needs to be warned? Mommy kink, masturbation. No safeword is given in his dream because it’s just that – a dream. But it’s consensual, and I’m sure they do have one.  
>  **Written 12/27/16**

“I got you, baby boy. I got you.” Your lips kissed a line from the corner of his mouth down to his neck, one hand splayed out over his bare chest, the other leisurely jacking him off. He was convulsing every so often, mouth hanging open and head lolled back against your shoulder. The two of you had been going at this for over an hour – every time he was sure you were going to let him come you stopped, and since he was such a good boy he only verbally complained. (He was good at that. Complaining, that is.)

“Wanna – I wanna come now, mommy..” Seungkwan whimpered, hips bucking uselessly forward now that your hand had stopped. “I’ve been good..!” It was a definite whine, because he  _had_  been good – in his opinion he’d been the best baby boy anyone could possibly be. He was so hard it physically hurt, and he was steadily leaking pre-come.

“Shh, baby.” You soothed, the hand not pressing his pelvis back against you coming up to gently stroke across his cheek. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Mommy..” It was a plea with no real direction behind it, and you took notice of it by pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth, placing the pads of your pointer fingers against his plump lower lip. He dutifully took them into his mouth, sucking on them and scraping his teeth lightly along the skin. He was way too good with his tongue, but you mostly did this because you knew how he liked to occasionally suck on them. He also looked phenomenal with something in his mouth, so that was another plus.

“You look so good, Kwannie. You know that? You’re my perfect little baby boy, aren’t you?” More kisses were littered along his neck while you withdrew your fingers, and he squirmed against you in pleasure. “You gotta trust me though, baby boy. Do you trust me?”

He nodded rapidly, lips sloppily kissing at your cheek until you gave him what he wanted and turned your head to full on kiss him. He was such a good kisser, so pliant and giving – those singer’s lungs really came in handy, too. Seungkwan really put his all into every kiss, even when he was absolutely exhausted. And he was indeed exhausted.

“I trust mommy.” He gasped out after you’d broken the kiss, body limp against yours. “But I wanna come. Please mommy?”

You ran a finger across his cheek soothingly, silently marveling at how soft and flawless his skin was. It was almost unfair, how beautiful he was.

“You need to be patient, Kwannie. If you trust me, you’ve gotta wait, because I’m going to make sure my baby boy feels so good.” He moaned long and loud from deep in his chest when you began pumping him again, unknowingly trying to fuck forward into your hand.

“I’m gonna make you come so hard, Kwannie. You’re going to come  _so hard_ –“

“Please please please please mommy –  _ah_ , mommy,  _please_  –“

—

Seungkwan woke with a literal gasp, the sheets of the hotel bed sticking to his legs uncomfortably, his entire body covered in a cold sweat. It had been so real – he could still feel those fingers of yours, running lightly up and down his dick, your voice telling him what a good boy he was.

He didn’t even think, hand blindly grasping and throwing the covers off as his other hand slid underneath the waistband of his boxers. The fabric was wet and ruined by pre-come, and his body jerked forward the moment he wrapped his hand around his cock. It was almost painful, how hard he was – and it was all your fault, too. When was the last time he’d gotten to talk to you? (It wasn’t necessarily your fault he was on tour, but at the moment it was easier to blame you. Especially when he knew you were asleep in your own bed at this time, and he was awake with a “problem”.)

If you had been here, what would you do to him?

You’d probably loosely wrap those beautiful fingers around his dick and give it a few slow pumps – he let out a shaky whine as he mimicked it with his own hand – whispering in his ear about how beautiful he looked for mommy, how gorgeous your baby boy sounded.

Fuck, he would give anything in the world to be your baby boy right now, his pleasure completely in your hands. He couldn’t ever touch himself the way you could, even if he tried. It actually almost felt  _wrong_  – he was your baby boy, and it felt like he should be punished for touching himself without permission. (But you’d understand, right? His mommy was always so sweet and understanding.)

“Fuuuuck – mommy  _please_  please please –“ He was severely lucky he’d been the odd one out this week and he’d gotten a hotel room by himself – there was no way he’d be able to hold back his moans or pleas at this point. One of his hands traveled up his chest, brushing over one of his sensitive and pebbled nipples before stopping at his mouth. He couldn’t quite pretend it was your fingers in there instead of his, but it was better than nothing. Moans still flowed out freely around his fingers, and he mindlessly bucked up into his hand with a single goal in mind.

_“You look so good with something in your mouth, baby boy.”_

He could practically hear your words whispered into his ear, the way your lips felt against his cheek when you would kiss them. If he tried to imagine hard enough, he could feel your hand over his, guiding it along his length, showing him just the right places where he should press his fingers down more firmly.

His hand was slick with pre-come, breath stuttering out between his lips so often that he couldn’t even make any coherent sounds other than broken syllables that sort of sounded like “mommy”. He could clearly imagine/feel your lips on his neck, urging him on, helping push him over the edge.

“Ah –  _fuck_  –“ He wasn’t supposed to curse, but he couldn’t help it, body convulsing and hips snapping forward periodically as he covered his upper chest with streaks of white. Sometimes, if he came hard enough, you’d reward him. It was a shame you weren’t here with him tonight.

It took him a full minute to come down from his high, body tingling pleasantly. He didn’t want to think about getting up to clean up the mess on his chest or hand, though he know he needed to. Neither you nor he liked a mess.

With his free hand he reached for his phone on the bedside table, squinting against the bright glare. You were asleep, but he still wanted to send you a text.

**_‘I love you~_ ** **_💕_ ** **_‘_ **

That done, he moved to get up and clean himself up. Hopefully he could get a few more hours of sleep before they needed to get up. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy another dream with his mommy in it.

~~Unfortunately for him, you hadn’t approved, and he’d gotten “punished” by his mommy later.~~


	11. Louder {'Baby Boo' pt. 2}[Sub!Seungkwan/Reader]{NSFW Drabble}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"*chants silently* Sub seungkwan sub seungkwan sub seungkwan where he comes untouched..."_  
>  "(slams fists) different anon but sub seungkwan crying and begging for u to touch him promising he'll be a good boy. i'm in love"  
> "ahh, to piggyback on the past seungkwan requests-- could you add light bondage or maybe handcuffs? we have to make sure the baby doesn't touch himself while being punished."  
> "ooh, i see. may i request for usage of toys and/or overstimulation for the sub!seungkwan too? if it's not too troublesome~~"  
>  **Warnings:** Orgasming untouched, blindfold, handcuffs/rope, mommy kink, spanking, overstimulation  
>  **Written 02/07/18**

“Please..” The whimper falls from his lips shakily, and even though you’re not going to comply with it you reward his obedience with an affectionate kiss to the forehead, hand caressing across his cheek. He’s tied up perfectly, arms handcuffed behind his back and ankles tied together. (It’s not too tight – you’d never want to cause your baby any pain. It’s just tight enough to render him immobile.)

The theme for tonight is black – black handcuffs, black satin on his ankles, black blindfold covering his eyes. Dark, almost black hickies dotting his skin, on the inside of his thighs and the top of his chest.

It’s been hours since you started, hours since you first kissed him and felt him up. Since then you hadn’t touched him once where he wanted it most – Seungkwan was such a sensitive lover that you really didn’t even need to touch him and he’d be shaking.

“Do you really think you deserve to be touched, Kwannie?” Your voice is cool and smooth, and his head jerks in the direction of it, sightless eyes turned on you.

“Y-yes – I’ve been a good boy, mommy!” It’s a whine, and you roughly grip his chin in response. (You’re never rough enough to leave marks, though, not like this. He’s precious to you.)

“A  _good boy_  hmm?” You murmur thoughtfully, and he swallows harshly at your words. “When you texted me in the middle of the night, did you think I wouldn’t be suspicious, baby?”

“But..” Seungkwan murmurs, to no effect on you. “I told you what I did!” He’s lowkey begging now, and you smooth your hand along his cheek affectionately to calm him down.

“You told me you touched yourself  _without_  my permission, and you cursed too. You know neither of those are allowed, baby boy. And you expect to be rewarded now?” He bows his head in shame at your words, his blonde fringe falling across the blindfold. It was a stark difference from his previous red hair, but you found that you didn’t mind much at all.

“No..” He finally says, voice dejected – you kiss the crown of his head and he perks up slightly at the indication that you aren’t actually all that mad at him.

“So what I’m going to do, baby boy..” You trail your fingers down his cheek to his neck, down farther to roughly tweak one of his nipples – he jerks instantly, a low whine leaving his throat at the feeling. “Is just not touch you down there.”

It’s a new punishment, and you can tell from his silence that he’s turning that over in his mind, trying to figure out what the hell that even meant. But you had a plan.

Sort of.

As you’d mentioned before, Seungkwan was very sensitive – a long while back, before the two of you had gotten this sexual, he’d orgasmed once just from making out. (The poor thing had been so embarrassed.) You sort of spoiled him in regard to stimulation, but this  _was_  a punishment, so you were going to set out to see if he could orgasm without stimulation again.

And if it didn’t work, well – it  _was_  a punishment, after all. And in the end you’d make sure he got his release.

Roughly a half hour later and Seungkwan was completely wrecked, this new punishment being like the most effective, continuous version of edging.

“Mommy..” It’s a broken plea that he manages to get out between your kisses, wanting to so desperately be given the little bit of extra stimulation he needed. “Mommy,  _please_ , please I just want to come so badly..” Literally any type of touch from you would send him over the edge, the slightest brush of your fingers or your leg or  _anything_.

“Baby boy.” Your voice is as calm as ever, soothing, and he grasps onto it. You are his entire world right now, immobilized and blind, his back against your chest. “It’ll be over soon, Kwannie. You’re doing so well. Do you remember your safe word?” It takes a moment, but he bites his lip and nods.

It’s awful and he hates it but he doesn’t  _hate_  it. He trusts you with every part of him. So of course he remembers his safe word – he just doesn’t feel the need to use it yet.

“Please, mommy, I’ll be a good boy..” It’s a blind promise, trying to say whatever he thinks you want to hear – but it’s also the truth. He wanted nothing more than to be a good boy for his mommy.

“You are a good boy for mommy.” You soothe softly, fingers smoothing along his shoulder, lips pressing into the juncture of his neck

And just like that it’s over. The band that had been tightening and tightening and tightening snapped and Seungkwan orgasmed so hard he legitimately forgot to breathe, breath catching in his throat and body arched at an impossible angle. It was like his entire body had been lit with a searing fire that left electric shocks in its wake.

He wasn’t even sure how long it was until he opened his eyes, but when he did the blindfold had been removed and you were massaging his wrists, peering at his face.

“Kwannie? You okay?” Your voice washes over him like water and he nods, unable to verbalize any coherent emotion. You lean in to kiss him and he accepts it greedily but jerks away when your hand comes in contact with his cock that’s dripping with both pre-come and semen.

“Too much..” He whines this softly but his arms come up to wrap around your neck, bringing you back in for another kiss.

“Shh, baby. Let mommy make up for it, alright?” Your words clearly affect him and he lets you lean him back down against the pillow before re-focusing on his neglected dick, aiming to bring him to a quick and efficient release for a second time.

“Ah..” Seungkwan’s noise of pleasure is almost a sigh of relief the second time he orgasms and his entire body goes limp, chest heaving from the sheer ecstasy and exhaustion.

You take this time to unwrap his ankles, checking for any marks or injuries before moving back up to his head, pressing kisses on it. He’s sweaty and completely wiped out but he manages a smile at you and your heart melts all over again.

“You did so well, Kwannie. Such a good boy.” Your words are met with a tired laugh and a weak swat in your direction. You had been planning on taking a bath together, but he just looked too tired for it now so instead you get a wetted hand-towel and wipe his face off with it before moving lower.

“You’re so good to me.” He sounds less breathy than before, more smug and contented. “Always take such good care of me. I bet everyone’s jealous that I get you all to myself.”

You laugh and drop the towel on the floor to be cleaned later – along with the bedding, ugh – moving to lay at his side.

“They’re jealous of me, not you. I’ve got such a handsome man all to myself.” He looks slightly uncomfortable at your compliments but that expression quickly gives way to a sheepish one as you press a loving kiss to his cheek. “Was the punishment too much?”

“It was.. “ He trails off, trying to choose a suitable word. “Intense. Just don’t do it very often.”

“I won’t.” You promise sincerely, fingers brushing his sweaty hair back from his face. “But if you weren’t such a  _naughty_  boy, I wouldn’t need to punish you at all.”

“I’m not a naughty boy!” He cries, indignant – you can’t help but laughing again, and he joins you. “I’m the  _best_  boy.”


	12. Possessive [Hybrid!Jihoon/GenderNeutralReader]{NSFW Drabble}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Can we get like, a possessive Woozi smut drabble thing where he's a hybrid?"_  
>  **Warnings:** Cat hybrid Jihoon, handjob  
>  **Written 04/22/17**

You smelled strongly of that dog hybrid again, the one you worked with, the one that had gone into heat recently, and he hated it. You were his – you were  _his_  and you should only ever smell like him.

What if you liked that other hybrid more than him?

“What’s wrong Jihoonie?” His ears twitch at the sound of your voice, and he curls closer into your side, one arm wrapped tightly around your stomach.

“Nothing.” He mutters, though it’s clearly a lie, and he knows you’re aware of this. He was never this clingy unless he wanted something, or was upset about something.

“You can tell me, baby.” Your voice is a comfort to him, and he leans into the hand that has found its way into his hair, scratching at the scalp – it would have been perfect if not for the fact that you were wearing the wrong scent.

“You smell –“ He corrects himself at the last second, tail lashing angrily against the couch. “You don’t smell like me anymore.” He knows it’s not your fault you have to work with that other hybrid – he really does – but he still hates it, and sometimes that hate bleeds into annoyance at you for letting someone else get so close to you.

“Oh – Jihoonie, I’m sorry.” The hand in his hair stops, and his eyes open. He hadn’t even noticed he’d closed them. “What do you want to do to fix it?”

There’s a moments pause before he clambers onto your lap, straddling it and facing you. He buries his face into your neck, rubbing his cheek along the skin there – it’s a part of you that smells least like the other hybrid and more like you, and he doesn’t see any reason in moving when your arms wrap around him comfortingly.

The only plan he has at the moment isn’t a very good one, considering he isn’t hard at the moment, but that’s not much a problem. All he has to do is think risqué thoughts about you and continue breathing in your scent and after an extended moment or two he can feel himself hardening in his sweatpants.

“I want you to touch me.” His voice is strong and still annoyed, though no embarrassment is present. He can hear the slight way your heartbeat increases, and he’s proud of it.

“Okay baby.” Your answer is soft and yet he hears it loud and clear, and he leans back at your gentle pushing so you can work his sweatpants down his hips. There’s no point in taking his sweats all the way off, and he grasps your wrist and brings your hand to his mostly hard cock.

“Make me hard.” He orders, ignoring the way your lips are tugging into an amused smile. “And then make me come.”

“Will that make me smell like you?” He can hear the teasing note in your voice, but it doesn’t bother him – he just waits until your hand starts its slow drag up and down his dick, eyes fluttering shut so he can just focus on the feeling.

His tail has involuntarily wrapped around your leg, and he’s gripped your hips tightly with his fingers so he won’t end up falling backwards. It only took a minute or two for him to become fully hard and start leaking a small bead of pre-come – it was just the effect you had on him. (Which was another reason he didn’t want you smelling like some other hybrid, especially when they’d been in heat. He wanted you to make only him feel good.)

When he bites his lip he can feel you shift, and then your lips are on his and he’s kissing you harshly, biting your bottom lip and forcing his tongue into your mouth aggressively.

When he orgasms it’s with a soft cross between a growl and a sigh, and it paints your hand white – he tucks himself back into his pants without your help, holding your wrist with one hand so you wouldn’t be tempted to wipe it off. (He didn’t want you to keep it on there  _indefinitely_ , but for a little bit would leave a stronger scent on you.)

There’s still the faint smell of the other hybrid lingering on your skin – a little cuddling will fix that - but now you mostly smell of him and sex, and he’s content with that. Your fingers tangle back into his hair as he curls back up against your chest, arms wrapped around you possessively even as you leaned over to grab a tissue for the mess he’d left. You were his, and he was damned if you were going to smell like someone else.


	13. Maknae on Top [Dom!Chan/Reader/Seungcheol]{NSFW Drabble}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** _Threesome, and Seungcheol's a sub, so if that upsets you, thennnnn.._  
>  **Written 02/12/17**

“ _Fuck_!” Seungcheol’s curse is a half sob sound, body locked between yours and Chan’s as the younger pounds into his ass from behind, forcing him deeper and deeper into you. He’s exhausted – more exhausted than you, for sure – and you know he’s already come once into the condom, but from what you can tell Chan doesn’t care.

“Does it feel good, baby?” The husky comment from Chan is directed at you, and you nod wordlessly as another pleasure filled shudder wracks your body. Seungcheol’s head rests limply against your shoulder, mouth hanging open as Chan continuously nails his prostrate with precision.

Seungcheol is still thrusting weakly into you as well – he was ordered to, after all – but most of his force comes from how hard Chan is fucking him. You know the routine well enough by now, but you still enjoy it all the same, looking forward to the nights Chan slips into this role.

Your next orgasm sneaks up on you, lighting your entire body on fire as your muscles tense, the feeling comparable to a pleasurable white heat as you moan out a choked sounding gasp, voice and body and everything so fucked out that any sound more is impossible for you to make. Chan takes that as his cue to pull Seungcheol away, arm that’s locked around his broad shoulders pulling him back and out of you. You watch through lidded eyes as Chan continues to fuck him, finally orgasming with a deep grunt that Seungcheol echoes back as a moan.

Seungcheol is absolutely limp in Chan’s arms, but he makes sure to lay him down gently beside you, quietly cleaning up everything on his own as the two of you float through euphoria and exhaustion. Seungcheol’s head is naturally nestled against your shoulder, and if either of you had any energy left you would have probably curled up together and fallen asleep.

It could have been five minutes and it could have been an hour for all you knew, but eventually Chan gets done cleaning the both of you – and himself – up, covering everyone with the sheets. You can feel him behind you, a comforting heat as he cuddles up against your back, his hand reaching across your body to stroke against a semi-conscious Seungcheol’s cheek.

“Everyone okay?” His voice is only slightly scratchy, but the concern for the two of you leaks through it easily. Seungcheol makes a weak sounding “mhm” in confirmation, and you whisper a soft and croaky “yes”. His hand entangles with Seungcheol’s limp one, his lips pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. In instances like these, he wasn’t the baby anymore. Both of you were his babies, and he wouldn’t relax until he was absolutely sure the two of you were okay and relaxed and happy.

“Good.”


	14. Morning Sweetness [Sub!Seungcheol/GenderNeutralReader]{NSFW}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Omg hi!! If you have the time, and actually want to (don't pressure yourself, love), could I request a needy, whiny seungcheol smut? like really fluffy and vanilla!! i really love love love your work, you're such a good writer!! <3 i love you okay?<33"_  
>  **Warnings:** Handjob, attempted fluff lmao  
>  **Written 03/13/17**

“Baaabe.” His voice, though low in pitch, seems extra annoying to you so early in the morning as it pulls you from your throes of sleep. You can feel his nose on your neck, his smile against your skin – he slides one of his muscular arms under your shoulders and draws you against his chest, curling his entire body arounds yours. His chest is warm and you nuzzle your face into it, already getting lulled back to sleep. There’s something comforting about your boyfriend – maybe it’s his familiarity, or the way he smells like the hot chocolate you bought recently. Whatever sweater he’s wearing is soft against your face, his chuckle vibrating throughout his chest as you nuzzle the plush fabric again. It’s rare for him to wear such heavy clothes to bed, but it had been chilly last night and he’d finally given in to it.

“Babe.” He drops a kiss down to your cheek, fingers gently stroking your hair away from your face. “I know you’re not still asleep.”

“Cheol.. It’s so  _early_.” You confirm this by forcing your eyes open to see hints of sunlight filtering through your white drapes – the clock reads 8:00 AM and you groan. It may not actually be all that early, but for you it was damn early enough. His lips touch your cheek in a kiss meant to placate, but when you don’t respond he starts to leave more kisses, trailing down to your neck. It’s a ticklish sensation that you know he wants you to respond to, but you refuse to play his little game, eyes stubbornly shut. “What do you want?”

“I want your help.” There’s a distinct whine to his voice, and a small smile comes to your face that gets hidden in his chest. He was always so cute in the morning.

“What on earth could you want  _my_  help with?” You ask it teasingly, and he makes a vaguely unhappy sound at your response, pulling away to see your face.

“It’s always better when  _you_  do it..” He mumbled, face flushing. It was cute how he got shy every single time he brought this up – especially considering it was at least a weekly occurrence.

What he was referring to, was of course, masturbation. Put as simply as possible, Seungcheol on most mornings woke with morning wood, and he was extremely bad at ignoring it. You blamed his naughty mind, but he blamed you. (After all, you were lying  _right_  next to him most mornings.)

“You  _could_  just ignore it.” You pointed out, hand snaking down to cup his erection through his sweatpants. His eyes flutter shut in anticipation, but in a few seconds they’re open again and peering at you curiously, because that hand of yours isn’t moving an inch.

“Babe?”

“Can’t you just ignore it?” You ask seriously, watching the way his expression falters. You’re teasing, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“I – I guess so..” All his bravado is gone under your gaze, and you instantly feel bad, dropping kisses on his cheeks in apology.

“I’m kidding, Cheol – I’m kidding. I like making you feel good.” You reassure, reaching up with your free hand to stroke his hair back from his forehead. He smiles at you in embarrassment, leaning forward to peck your lips. “And I love you.”

“I love you too.” He answers in his rumbling bass of a voice, smile gradually overtaking his face. “How do you want me?”

“On your back, sweetie.” His smile grows at your affectionate pet nickname, shifting onto his back per your instructions. You pull the white covers back from his body as he curls his fingers around the waistband of his gray sweatpants. You can see the obvious tenting in them before he pulls them down to his knees, and you chuckle because  _of course_  he didn’t wear any type of underwear. The less clothes to sleep in the better, in his opinion.

“Do you want me to reciprocate?” He asks, ever so sweet, and you smile at him and shake your head, hand reaching down to grasp his length.

“It’s too early for that – you’re the childish one, already needing my help so early in the morning.” He laughs softly at your gentle teasing, hand coming up to caress your face lovingly. It wasn’t that your hand stroking his dick didn’t feel good – of course it felt good, sending pleasurable tingles along his body every so often – but he still felt the need to show you he loved you.

He leans over more to place a sweet kiss on your lips, but it dissolves into a gasp when you rub your thumb along his frenulum. You giggle at the way he bites his lip, leaving a kiss on the crown of his head instead. You can feel his deep, albeit shaky, chuckle vibrate through your chest.

“You’re too good at this.” He murmurs softly, propping himself up on one arm on his side as you continue to slowly and leisurely jack him off. He already knows you’re going to have some smartass comment, and he mirrors the slow smile that appears on your face.

“Well, you give me a lot of chances to practice.” You laugh softly at his indignant expression. “Always so needy.”

“Can you blame me? I’ve always got you to look at.” You swat him playfully on the shoulder for his cheesy words, and the two of you dissolve into a fit of laughter. You loved mornings like these, where giving him a hand job didn’t mean everything had to be serious and sexy. It meant the two of you could still be yourselves, and he could still be your fluffy and dumb boyfriend who had way too many clichéd things to say.

He leans back in to kiss your lips properly, lips soft and sensual against your own. A soft little moan from him is swallowed up by your mouth when you increase the pace of your hand, his hips leisurely rolling forward to meet your hand occasionally.

When he comes it isn’t some big event – a long groan is torn from his throat, his head dropping down to your shoulder as you milk him of his orgasm. When the stimulation gets to be too much for him he jerks away, chuckling at himself and then full on laughing when you wipe your hand off on his stomach, his sweater having risen just high enough to show a strip of skin there.

He leans in to brush noses with you gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he gets up to clean himself up. When he comes back you greet him with open arms, and the two of you snuggle back down under the covers, wearing matching smiles as you periodically share little kisses.

When you get sleepy again he cuddles your head up to his chest, legs entwined with yours and arms around you. He’s okay with letting you sleep in another few hours, especially since you’d been sweet enough to help him out. It’s not verbalized, but the two of you know without a doubt that the other loves mornings like these. That love is only slightly less than what you feel for each other, and you fall asleep easily with his hand stroking your hair lovingly and his heartbeat in your ear.


	15. Kiss With a BFF [Jihoon/Reader]{Fluff Drabble}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Can I please get a request where you and Woozi are bffs and you try to keep him company in his studio and the boys play a prank do you kiss under a mistletoe hung on the door frame? (Bffs with feelings who haven't said so yet). Thanks so much! -Baozi♡"_   
>  **Written 12/11/17**

Seungkwan’s laughter is just a background noise to his deafening heartbeat that echoes around his head, and his eyes are on you as you try to slip past Jeonghan who expertly and slyly leans against the door-frame to his studio room and blocks your attempted escape.

“How are you all fitting in here?” Your voice is usually music to his ears but now it startles him, reminds him that he’s definitely not getting out of this since all of his members are watching. Kissing your best friend is a taboo, he knows this, he  _fucking knows_  -

That’s why he’s never done it. Friendships were precious to Jihoon and he refuses to fuck one up, especially one with you.

“Come on, hyung, you can’t back out!” Seokmin’s voice is cheerful and  _wow Jihoon wants to punch him_ , but Jun’s hands are on him turning him back towards you and he’s giggling and it’s honestly really hard to be angry when you listen to Jun laugh so happily, even when you’re Jihoon.

Your eyes - your beautiful eyes - are trained on the mistletoe Mingyu had been holding up above the door, now down near his waist because the tall giant’s arm had gotten sore.

“I’m not -”  _doing this, there’s no way I’m doing this, why don’t you all just **back off**_ -

Your lips are on his and momentarily everything fades away except for you. He can’t hear his band-mates anymore, can’t feel Soonyoung’s hands on his shoulders, keeping him in place - what he can feel is your lips against his, and he’s not sure when he moved his hand to your cheek but your skin feels heavenly beneath his fingertips.

When he pulls away he can’t force himself to meet your eyes - the boys are literally  _deafening_  with how loud they’re cheering (or screaming, neither of you can really tell), and even though he’s still pissed at them for setting this entire thing up he can’t find it in himself to be all that angry.

The reason is your fingers lingering around his, the way he catches you smiling a tiny smile when he manages to gain the courage to look up again. He’s not  _quite_  sure what any of this means, and he’s sort of annoyed that you’d managed to make the first move instead of him, but he feels warm and happy and when he tightens his hold on your hand you don’t pull away, smile brightening at Joshua who had currently been teasing you as your finger curls around his own.


	16. Together [Dom!Reader/Jeonghan/Sub!Jihoon]{NSFW}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** _Overstimulation, handcuffs, blindfolds, noona kink sort of, blowjobs, sex toy, french kissing, polyamorous relationship, Jeonghan likes to think he’s in control when he’s not, fussy Jihoon hates everyone_  
>  **Written 01/02/17**

“Stop  _fussing_ , Jihoon.” It was an angry mutter from you, and you finished clasping the leather handcuffs around his wrists with an angry flourish. He glares angrily at you from underneath his pink fringe, hands stuck above him by the handcuffs looped around the headboard. His skin was a light tan, practically unmarred – a testament to how long it’d been since you’d done anything together.

“Stop  _staring_  – why am I the only one naked anyway?!”

“Shut up, Jihoonie, or I’ll shut you up with my cock.” The vulgar and sinful words roll off of Jeonghan’s tongue easily – he’s seated near Jihoon’s head, still in his boxers, and you roll your eyes at his haughty tone. He’s made sure to tie his long hair up in a ponytail, for everyone’s benefit – it had been too much of a nuisance last time. Jihoon just blushes angrily at the threat, turning his head away. (You know he’s not  _really_  angry – he’s just a fussy person by nature. A cute fussy person.)

“It’s okay, Jihoon.” You soothe softly, ever the mediator. “Jeonghannie’s gonna get handcuffed too.” Jihoon visibly relaxes a bit at that – Jeonghan shoots you a nasty glare, but you ignore it in favor of reaching for his hands. He reluctantly gives them to you, and you don’t miss the way he and Jihoon both stick their tongues out at each other. You don’t comment on it – childish behavior like that was more common between the two than one might have guessed.

Jeonghan actually fights you at first when you try to handcuff him to the bed – you end up having to kiss him to distract him, and afterwards he pouts at you in disappointment. It almost makes you feel bad. (Instead you’re just thinking about what he felt like on your tongue, and how he tasted distinctly clean and fresh.)

The first submissive whine of the night comes from Jihoon once he sees the blindfolds in your hand – surprisingly, he breaks the easiest every single time. Something about his gruff and prickly attitude would make you think differently, but his fussiness lent to his submissiveness well.

“ _Noona_ , no blindfolds.” Jihoon hits you with that submissive pleading look of his that makes your legs weak, but you stubbornly refuse to give in.

“Why no blindfolds, baby?” You ask this while crawling up the bed in between the two boys – they both stare up at you with innocent expressions, though you can sense something more beneath Jeonghan’s. (He’s a special case. He’ll let you play dominant all you want as long as he gets his release in the end.)

Jihoon has gone quiet, and you know his pursed lips to be one of silent stubbornness. He doesn’t have any reason for the lack of blindfolds other than the fact that he doesn’t like not being able to see you – you know this, but let him bask in his disapproval instead.

“Is the safe word the same as before?” You ask as you gently lay the blindfold around Jeonghan’s head – you can see his lips form into a smirk, not needing to see his eyes to know what he’s doing.

“Why are we discussing safe words after we’ve both been handcuffed?” His tone is snarky, and you hear Jihoon snicker in the background – you let this slide again, knowing that neither one of them have gotten completely into the submissive headspace yet. (You’re not convinced Jeonghan ever really gets there – he just sort of sits on the edge and pretends to be there.)

“Yeah, it’s the same as always jagiya.” Jihoon speaks up once you’re done with Jeonghan’s blindfold, and you’re sure he regrets the affectionate pet-name once you put the soft fabric around his own head. (He growls softly in annoyance, but he can’t really do anything about it with his hands handcuffed.)

“Take my boxers off for me, princess.” You cock an eyebrow at how Jeonghan orders you – you can’t see his eyes but you can see that damn smirk of his, and the similar one Jihoon’s sporting.

“I don’t remember ever saying  _you_  could tell  _me_  what to do.” And just like that your voice has transformed into something cold and commanding – Jihoon’s smirk slips away completely at it, and Jeonghan’s transforms into a placating smile. Neither one of them want you  _angry_  at them.

Because bad little boys never got to orgasm.

“Go ahead, Jeonghannie.” Jihoon has his hands handcuffed above him, whereas Jeonghan has his in front – it takes some maneuvering, with your hand guiding Jeonghan’s head, but what you instructed is easily doable.

Jihoon moans the instant Jeonghan’s tongue slides over his nipple – it’s always amazing how sensitive his body is, though you’re sure it attributes to how he normally deprives himself of anything sexual. (That’s fine though – that’s what you and Jeonghan were here for.)

“Noo – Noona..” It’s a stuttered plea from pink and shiny lips that hang open and just beckon your own – you press your lips to his immediately and instantly dominate the kiss, tongue scoping out the inside of his mouth. You hear the rattle of metal on metal and know that it’s Jihoon straining against the handcuffs – he always had a problem sitting still during things like these.

You reach forward to grab at Jihoon’s semi and hear him choke on his breath. Your thumb sits lightly on his slit, middle finger wrapping around to rub teasingly at his frenulum – he thrashes once, tugging harshly on the handcuffs.

“Noon –  _fuck –_ Noona, jesus christ..”

“Does it feel good, Jihoonie? Does Noona know how to touch your pretty cock?” You don’t get a verbal reply, but you can see all the muscles in his body tense up. You know his eyes are shut beneath the blindfold as well – he’s riding out the pleasure, focusing in on only that. Sometimes you’re not even sure if he grasps the real meaning of your words, just the sentiment behind it.

In no time his cock stands at full hardness, and you take that as your cue to reach for the unassuming bullet vibrator sitting on the edge of the bed. It’s small, and not very powerful, but you’d been looking forward to using it again, though this time not on yourself.

It’s not turned on, but you can see him tense when you slide it down and hold it against his opening – Jeonghan must feel him tense, because he switches from kissing Jihoon’s neck to sliding back down to one of his nipples, a small attempt to get him to relax again. Jihoon’s always been tight – you can’t attest to this yourself personally, but you had experience with putting sex toys in him, and Jeonghan swore he was the tightest guy he’d ever fucked. (Which always led you to question what exactly this angel used to do back in high school.)

“Mn..” Jihoon huffs a breath out through his nose, a sure sign of discomfort as the small plastic device finally slips past the tight ring of muscle – your hand has slowed on his dick, just slow languid pumps to override any pain he feels. Jeonghan isn’t really doing much anymore, and you can see him just sort of hovering over Jihoon’s chest – without being able to see he’s trying to discern by sound if the smaller boy is in any pain.

It’s cute, but you choose to not comment on it and click the vibrator on instead – Jihoon reacts instantly, body spasming, mouth opening in a choked off moan. Jeonghan gets hit in the face with Jihoon’s chest, but he doesn’t miss a beat and instead takes the opportunity to duck back down and place open mouthed kisses on whatever part of the sensitive skin he could reach.

You continue to watch his body be wracked with tiny little spasms for a few more moments, your hand steadily becoming more slick with the amount of pre-come that was slowly sliding down Jihoon’s dick. The vibration is low, and though you know by itself it wouldn’t be able to do much, coupled with your hand he’s writhing and trying to fuck up into your fist. Jeonghan must have gotten fed up with all the moving around because Jihoon lets out a high pitched whine, and you can see a red pair of teeth marks around one of his nipples. Jihoon wouldn’t be too happy about that mark, but Jeonghan definitely would be.

“Hannie – baby, lay on your side. Kiss him while I suck you.” You know Jihoon’s going to protest the moment you take your hand away – and he does, in high-pitched, beautiful whimpers – but Jeonghan covers them up quickly with his own mouth. It was almost funny, how at one time they’d protested to kissing one another, another guy, but now they went for it without a single shred of hesitation, all lips and teeth and tongue.

Reaching up, you grasped at the waistband of Jeonghan’s boxers – he wasn’t exactly helping you to get them off, but after all you had ordered him to kiss Jihoon, and that’s exactly what he was doing. A sort of selective help. That’s what Jeonghan seemed to be best in.

The fabric had a dark patch on it – you knew it was pre-come, and you allowed yourself a slight burst of pride before carelessly dropping them over the edge of the bed. Jeonghan had a pretty dick, tinged with pinks and reds – you reached out to touch it gently, looping your fingers around it, and he responded by rolling his hips into your hand.

You had to scoot closer to be able to wrap your lips around the tip, free hand dropping down to the swath of skin that would allow you to indirectly press at his G-spot. It was always a good way to get him riled up, and this time was no different – a sharp intake of breath could be heard from your angel, body going taut in pleasure.

They were both so fucking beautiful.

Every now and then Jihoon’s body would spasm from the vibrations, and his moan would be lost to Jeonghan’s mouth – though the older made sure to echo his own moans back, showing both you and Jihoon what a good job you were doing with his dick. It was a heady sight to watch – though they were both blindfolded and handcuffed, it didn’t seem to affect their ability or readiness to kiss each other at all. (It made you feel slightly left out of the whole kissing scene, but you knew you’d get paid back double on a separate night.)

Jeonghan’s moans and Jihoon’s moans were radically different things. Jihoon’s were much throatier, and louder – he had the tendency to try to hold back every sound he made, so the sounds that  _did_  slip through were always from intense pleasure. Jeonghan’s on the other hand were breathier, and quieter, and with a vibrato that most porn stars would kill for. (Even though he might sound like an angel, he definitely didn’t act like one during sex. You were pretty sure angels wouldn’t do half the shit he did in bed.)

You pull off of him suddenly, and there’s a split second protest in the form of a whine from Jeonghan as you unhandcuff him from the bed – you almost want to whine yourself, if you’re honest – and you can tell he’s confused by the apparent break in character before he realizes what you’re doing, where this is all heading, and then he’s smirking and letting the handcuffs drop off of the bed, pulling away from Jihoon’s lips entirely. The smaller boy is still panting, the vibrator inside him causing little twitches here and there – the toy isn’t strong enough to push him over the edge, but you don’t want it to. You just want it to keep him riled up.

And it’s doing a damn good job of it – his entire face is flushed a deep, dark red, all the way down to his shoulders, and his dick stands proudly at attention, a line of pre-come flowing all the way down to a sticky spot on his stomach. Your own underwear has been soaked at this point, and you were kind of tired of just sitting everything out – reaching forward you untie Jeonghan’s blindfold and let your own eyes meet light brown ones. You know Jihoon will be angry later when he finds out that the other boy had been allowed to take his blindfold off, but that’s later and not now. Now you’re just focused on Jeonghan’s brown eyes and sinful smirk.

“Tell me what to do, baby.” It’s border-lining sassy, and you furrow your brows to show him it’s not appreciated. He at least has the smarts to switch to a demure look, though you know it’s fake.

“Help me out here, baby.” You reach out for him and he grabs your forearms to steady you as you rise up onto your knees to remove your underwear before straddling Jihoon, wasting no time in sinking down onto his dick. It’s the tiniest of bits uncomfortable for you, but he stretches you out nicely, and the long drawn out curse you hear him groan out is a nice side-effect.

“Noona..” He tries to thrust up into you, but he doesn’t have the leverage needed and instead he is reduced to just growling angrily in protest. You’re the one who put that goddamned teasing vibrator in – you’re the one just  _sitting_  on his dick and not moving.

Ignoring Jihoon – bad boys who complained didn’t get your attention – you let Jeonghan draw closer to you, arms wrapping around his shoulders as his lips connect to your neck, kissing at it gently. It’s a severe contrast with what he’d been doing to Jihoon, and your skin tingles all over as he drops down to your collarbone. His fingers dance across your back to the clasp of your bra, expertly unhooking it – the moment he slides it off he discards it carelessly and switches from your collarbone to one of your breasts. The sound you let out is soft and high and sweet – Jeonghan echoes it back as your hands transition from his shoulders to the back of his neck and head. One of his hands kneads at your other breast, and even through the hazy arousal you have to push down your amusement. Even if he was an angel, he was still a guy.

“Noona..” It’s breathy and sweet and comes from your angel that gazes up at you from your chest, eyes glazed over with lust. You know he must be really feeling it now, because he only ever slips far enough to call you that when he’s really into everything happening.

“Yeah Hannie?” You murmur softly, stroking his cheek gently. You’re interrupted by a needy yet angry sounding whine from Jihoon – you couldn’t have forgotten about him, considering his dick was sort of driving you insane sitting inside of you, but it might have seemed differently to the boy. He was blindfolded, and he could hear both you and Jeonghan apparently having a good time and forgetting all about him.

“I think it’s time I made good on that threat from earlier.” Jeonghan’s eyes never leave yours, and once you nod your okay to him he moves back to Jihoon’s head, one hand curling around his dick and the other into bright pink hair. Jihoon doesn’t say anything as the older boy tightens his grip in the pink strands and jerks his head to the side, simply breathing through flared nostrils as his mouth opens automatically. “Look at that, Noona. Look at what a good little cocksucker he is – opening his mouth without me even telling him to.”

Hearing such vulgar words from Jeonghan at one point would have shocked you, but now you don’t even blink, focusing instead on sliding your knees to either side of Jihoon’s hips. You can see Jihoon’s lips stretch around the head of Jeonghan’s cock before the older boy pushes forward suddenly – Jihoon doesn’t choke, too used to the rough way Jeonghan liked to handle him.

“ _Suck_ , Jihoonie.” The order from the older boy kicks Jihoon into action – and sort of ticks you off, because sometimes he seems to forget who’s really in control – but Jihoon goes at it with just as much vigor as he would produce a song. One thing he is not is a bad lover. You hate to admit it, but he just might be better at sucking cock than you, though you know he’d never do it outside of this setting. (Even if he tries, he can’t hide his enthusiasm at sucking Jeonghan’s pretty dick.)

The moment you raise yourself up Jihoon moans out around Jeonghan’s dick, who responds in like. Jihoon’s body is still getting wracked with tiny vibrations, and now that you’re finally moving on him he can barely control himself, body moving on it’s on and hands grasping helplessly at the chains of the handcuffs. Fucking Jihoon has always felt good, and tonight is no exception, but within the first few moments he’s orgasming with a helpless whimper around Jeonghan’s cock, muscles tightening deliciously.

You can feel his release dripping out of you around his dick, though you haven’t stopped moving, and Jeonghan didn’t give him any resting time and had begun to slowly fuck his mouth during Jihoon’s orgasm. He’s a mess of post-orgasm pleasure, whining out at how your walls clench around him and how the vibrator doesn’t let up for a single moment – it’s overstimulating him for sure, but you know for a fact he doesn’t mind. Overstimulation was one of his favorite things, after all.

You switch your gaze to Jeonghan and are met with an intense stare – no doubt he’d been watching the way your boobs had been bouncing every time you rose and fell. You reach up your own hands to rub your fingers over your nipples, moaning out high and sweet at the spark it sends through you, especially with Jeonghan watching your every move.

“Fuck..” Jeonghan’s curse is low and barely audible, and he pulls out of Jihoon’s mouth while continuing to pump his dick with his hand. Jihoon tries to keep his mouth open like a fucking perfect submissive, but between your pussy and the vibrator he has no chance in hell at keeping his second orgasm at bay, and he orgasms again with a choked off moan, body spasming underneath yours.

Jeonghan reaches down and rips Jihoon’s blindfold off, catching his chin between the fingers of his free hand as he comes, shooting white out over Jihoon’s face. He’s a fucking work of art when orgasming, head thrown back, sweat glistening on his neck, mouth hanging open in a silent moan. It was a shame he wasn’t being as vocal tonight, but his night would come for sure.

Jihoon is gasping short and quick, and your own moan turns into a choked gasp when Jeonghan reaches up and rubs harshly at your clit – your walls spasm around Jihoon’s dick as you lurch forward, suddenly pushed so much closer to the edge.

“I-it hurts…fuck.. it fucking hurts..” Jihoon’s whimpering to himself, tiny little teardrops dotting the corners of his eyes – Jeonghan is quick to wipe them away with his free hand – while he waits for the pain to bleed into exquisite pleasure for the third time.

You’re starting to get tired, but with Jeonghan’s helpful ministrations it suddenly hits you, a wave of indescribable pleasure that washes over you in a white heat, making your vision blurry – you collapse forward against Jihoon’s heaving chest, your own mouth hanging open against his skin as you try to gasp in breath.

“Look at our Noona, Jihoonie. Isn’t she so pretty when she comes?” Jeonghan’s voice is dark and silky, urging the smaller boy on. “Can you feel her around you?”

“M-  _hn_  – mhm..she –  _oh_ , fucking –!” Jihoon’s words are a scrambled mess, and he comes suddenly, hips bucking uselessly up against yours. The overstimulation of his cock dragging against your clit is almost too much, but you let him do whatever he wants to heighten his third orgasm – raising your head you can see his come streaked face, eyes still clenched shut and mouth hanging open as broken moans filter through it. You kiss his neck softly before you pull off of him, hissing at the feeling of suddenly being so empty while he floats through his post-orgasm high.

Jeonghan is gone to the bathroom sooner than you can even process – you know he’s getting something to clean everyone up with. He always hated the mess come brought, and he knows without a doubt that you will remove the vibrator and handcuffs and make sure Jihoon was alright.

Jihoon’s sleepy, but he’s not completely gone yet, and he indeed gets a frown on his face when Jeonghan teases about getting his blindfold off early, though he calms down pretty quickly once you draw the soft blanket up and over his naked body, topping it off with a sweet kiss to his lips and both of his slightly red wrists - you can tell they don’t hurt much because he grumbles at you for taking the time to kiss them. If you had to guess, Jeonghan’s bite mark hurt more than anything else, but when you ask about you just get a blushing face and an “it doesn’t really hurt all that much.” Of course, Jeonghan makes the incredibly innocent offer to leave more. (Jeonghan doesn’t tease about the come on his face though, even as he cleans it off. It’s a sweet gesture you’re not sure he’s even aware he’s doing.)

“I love you.” You find yourself cuddled up between the two boys, and though Jihoon is fading fast he quietly returns the sentiment. Jeonghan had been the first one to say it to both of you – he never said it much after that first time, but both you and Jihoon knew it to be true. Jeonghan’s warm breath is on the back of your neck, his untied hair splayed out behind him on the pillow and his breathing patterns clearly indicating that he was asleep – Jihoon has managed to slyly cuddle up to your breasts, and you know for certain it wasn’t an accident he ended up there. You don’t say anything about it though, content to simply pet down his hair and let him drift off to sleep.

You knew you were going to fall asleep soon too, so you took the chance to drop a kiss down on the top of his head before snuggling back against Jeonghan’s bare chest. His arm had wrapped itself around you automatically, fingers just long enough to lay against Jihoon’s side.

This was how you wanted to be. Cuddled between them forever.


	17. A New Experience [Sub!Wonwoo/GenderNeutralReader]{NSFW}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Heyyy could you do a sub Wonwoo smut where you come home to see him trying on your pretty pastel lingerie please? Also, could it involve overstimulation? I'm so thirsty for Wonwoo in lingerie"_  
>  **Warnings:** Cross-dressing, overstimulation, Wonwoo’s sort of insecure in his masculinity so some body worshipping  
>  **Written 04/23/17**

There was a rush as he did it, his heart beating out a pattern of “this is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong” as his fingers quietly pulled open the drawer he’d seen you open so many times.

It lay there, unassuming in all its softness, the pale purple a sweet contrast against the white fabric of his long sleeved sweater. His fingers curled into the soft fabric, drawing them up and out of the drawer as unbidden thoughts came to mind – he’d seen you wear this so often, laid out beneath him, vulnerable and waiting to be taken by him and him alone.

But it’s always been in the back of his mind – a small nagging thought in the deep recesses of his mind about what it would feel like to be in your position.

Not physically in your position, mind you. He’d been down that road more than once, and enjoyed it just as much as he did topping. But lingerie..

Lingerie was another story all together. It was something soft, something different, something  _taboo_  and honestly ever since he got the idea to try yours on a few months ago he hadn’t been able to think about anything else.

Even as he slid his loose sweatpants off his hips he could feel his dick hardening – but he told himself he wouldn’t be in the undergarment long, and that even if he was he wouldn’t  _do_  anything.

The sweatpants were folded and put neatly on the floor next to the drawer which still housed the top to your lingerie. You were supposed to be home in half an hour, and he wasn’t about to risk having the time disadvantage of taking  _every_  item of clothing off if you came home early.

Wonwoo felt vaguely guilty – it wasn’t like he didn’t trust you or anything like that. It was just.. embarrassing, honestly. He never wanted you to see him as anything less than a man, and pastel purple lingerie wasn’t exactly the most masculine thing a guy could wear.

He’d been planning this since that morning when you said you were going to run to the store – he was so “well prepared” that he’d forgone underwear completely.

They felt light and airy between his fingertips, feeling almost like he was just carrying a scrap of lacy fabric with two bows on it instead of something someone was supposed to wear. He stopped in front of the full length mirror attached to the wall, inspecting first his reflection and then the contrast of color against his skin.

He was slowly talking himself out of it – this was a  _bad_  idea on so many levels. If someone saw him – someone other than you – or if you didn’t like it. What if he didn’t look as good as you did? What would you do?

He’s moving before another negative thought can hit him, quickly but delicately and with purpose as he pulls the fabric up his body. They sit low on his hips, and he has to adjust himself so he fits properly in them, but just looking down it doesn’t look  _too_  bad.

Wonwoo doesn’t want to look at his reflection anymore – the fabric feels good against his skin, and his hands rest lightly on either side of his now covered dick, pressing the lace into it.

He liked how it felt.

What if he liked how it looked too? This was supposed to be a one-time thing, nothing more – Wonwoo glances up into the mirror and catches his reflection in it. The lacy underwear sits flush against his skin, and he subconsciously smooths his hands along the lingerie, turning to view his backside in it.

His ass looked pretty good, if he did say so himself.

He’s not thinking out his actions anymore, hands slowly creeping back to his front – he startles as he rubs his hand over his dick harder than before, electric tingles sparking out across his skin. He hesitantly repeats the action, slower and more drawn out – his lip catches between his teeth, gaze dropping away from the mirror. It felt too good, better than it should have.

“Wonu?” The voice comes from you, and you’re met by your boyfriend’s wide-eyed stare, his body twisting around to look at you. He’s frozen, guilty, dreading what the next words out of your mouth are going to be.

You’re honestly not sure what exactly went on to get to this point, but it’s clear from the way he’s acting that he had  _not_  expected you to be home yet.

“What are you doing?” You ask it softly, moving to drape your coat over the back of one of the chairs in the room. Wonwoo’s dark eyes follow you, expression still a mix between startled and terrified.

“I’m –“ His naturally deep voice cracks, and you glance up at him in worry. He’s not meeting your gaze, eyes on his sweatpants on the floor. “I’m sorry, I just – just wanted to know what it felt like..”

It looks good.” You respond easily, smiling at the way his gaze snaps back to yours. His hands sort of hover in front of the lingerie, almost like he’s trying to hide it from you. “How does it feel?”

He shifts, clearly hesitating in answering, giving you time to think the situation over. The entire scenario is completely unexpected, and as nice as Wonwoo looks he’s clearly uncomfortable having been caught.

“It’s okay.” You soothe softly, moving towards him. He watches you quietly, but doesn’t move away when you approach him, so you take that as a good sign. “You look really good, babe. But do you feel good?” Your hands reach out to grasp ahold of his, though they hover in the air in front of him for a moment before he slowly removes his hands from where they were covering himself.

“Y- yeah.” He stutters over the single word, but his face holds no embarrassment over the fumble. He seems shocked that you accepted this situation so easily, shocked that you weren’t angry or disgusted.

You’re slightly hurt over that, but don’t say so. You know it has more to do with him accepting himself than you accepting him.

You stretch up to kiss him, and he bends down the few inches so your lips can touch softly, innocently. And while the kiss is innocent, you can tell he doesn’t mean for it to be – there’s a palpable fire burning behind it, and his hesitance is the only thing keeping it at bay.

“Is it okay if I make you feel even better?” You expect him to respond with the same hesitance as before, but something in him breaks at those words and the connotation behind it. When he nods he’s already stepping back towards the bed, sliding onto the white satin comforter.

Aside from the lingerie, this was familiar territory. He’d been submissive for you before, and knew what came along with it. The lace was just something new, something that could be potentially exciting.

Something scary.

He’s laid out on the bed on his back, the whites of both his sweater and the bedspread contrasting with his skin and pastel purple lace. He’s gorgeous, and when you tell him so his face tints pink high up on his cheekbones.

“So are you.” His compliment is awkward and weirdly placed, but you grin at it and he mirrors the grin back, albeit smaller.

Your hands slide up his bare legs, his thighs, fingers smoothing over the expanse of skin the lingerie doesn’t cover. He shivers slightly from the gentle touch, fingers curling into the satin when your own fingers traipse across the lace, coming to stop directly beside his covered dick. His eyes bore into your own.

“You’re okay with trying this, right Wonwoo?” You check, awaiting his response patiently. You watch his adam’s apple bob when he swallows, watch his tongue dart out to wet his lips.

“Yes.” It’s a soft murmur of affirmation, and you slowly drag your hand over his semi-hard bulge. His bottom lip has caught between his teeth again at the feeling, fingers curling into the fabric beneath him. He looks gorgeous like this, but his gaze is on the ceiling instead of you, and his breathing has already become erratic.

“Wonwoo.” He swallows but doesn’t look at you, can’t get out of his own head long enough to overcome his insecurities. “You look beautiful, Wonu, but we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

It takes a few more moments of silence before his gaze is drawn back to yours, and you can see in his eyes that he’s struggling to accept what you’ve said – but he is trying.

“Is it – “ He takes a sharp breath through his nose when you remove your hand, watching him patiently. “Is it really okay for me to wear something like this?”

“Of course it is.” Your response is instant, voice calm and steady, and he seems reassured by the sound of it alone. “If it feels good, then of course it’s okay. And you look good in it, too.”

He’s quiet after your words, and when he moves to scoot away you think he’s changed his mind, but he simply moves to sit with his back to the headboard, legs spread slightly for you still. His hesitance is still clear on his face, but there’s a determination there that wasn’t present before.

“I promise, Wonwoo.” Even after saying this you don’t move until he nods slightly, one hand gesturing you forward again.

“I’m sorry –“ Your lips are on his before he can even get the apology out – he has nothing to apologize for in the first place.

“Don’t be.” You whisper once the two of you break apart, lips dropping down to his neck to mouth at the skin there. You can feel his pulse beneath your lips, and his breathing has become erratic again, but you don’t worry about it this time. This time it’s not due to panic, but rather your own ministrations. His fingers curl into your shoulder, gently pushing you down lower – when you reach the collar of his sweater you glance up at him once before dropping back down to the lingerie. He makes no move to stop you, hand still on your shoulder, anchoring him.

Your lips trail along the outline of his dick, tongue darting out to wet the transparent fabric – he doesn’t react much other than to swipe his thumb over your shoulder, a quiet urging.

You continue to mouth at his lace covered cock until he’s fully hard, liking the way he’s begun to let out tiny groans of appreciation at the feeling. You’re tempted to drag it out longer, but he doesn’t give you the chance and hooks his own thumbs under the waistband, letting it settle directly below his dick. You glance up at him once for reassurance – for you and for him – before you duck down and wrap your lips around its head.

He lets out a soft sigh at the feeling, legs spreading further unknowingly for you as you slide down further. You don’t stop until you feel him hit the back of your throat, and when you swallow his breath catches in his own throat and turns into a choked cough. Your fingers have slid beneath him, digging into his ass cheeks still covered in lace, kneading both the fabric and skin – a soft moan is torn from his lips at all the sensations, and the fingers on your shoulder tighten.

There’s a few more minutes that go by like this, small sounds being torn from his throat while you mercilessly pleasure him until his entire body is going tense, muscles taught as he orgasms into your mouth with a rough grunt. You swallow it all easily.

When you pull off of him his cock is shiny and red, a stark contrast with the softness of the lingerie beneath it – you reach out and grasp it firmly, pumping your hand up and down it with the sole aim to tease.

“Don’t – don’t stop..!” His plea is a strangled one, deep voice begging you and urging you on – you comply easily, though with your hand and not your mouth this time, not exactly surprised by his outburst but certainly pleased.

He’s shaking underneath you, mouth hanging open in pleasure and slight pain from the overstimulation he asked for, hands gripping the bedspread so tightly his knuckles have turned white.

“Fuck –  _fuck_  – it’s too much, too  _fucking much_  –“ He rambles incoherently, voice thick with pleasure and lust and pain and everything in between. You’re quiet, but your normally silent boyfriend is making enough noise for the both of you combined.

He’s squirming uncontrollably, and within a few seconds he orgasms again for the second time, and his words turn into an exhalation in the form of a deep groan, the purple lingerie becoming completely ruined between the mix of come and pre-come.

You give him a few moments to come down from his high, slipping off the bed to grab his sweatpants for him. When you arrive back by his bedside he’s watching you with dark and loving eyes, already in the process of peeling off the sticky underwear. He accepts his pants with a grateful smile, chuckling when you wrinkle your nose at the lingerie he drops on the floor.

“We’ll need to buy a new pair.” You mumble, looking at the discarded lace.

“Sure.” He answers easily, clearly having had a change of heart regarding the undergarments. “We should try white, next time.”


	18. Not Done Yet [Jihoon/Reader]{NSFW Drabble}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** _Handcuffs, facesitting, Woozi’s P.O.V._  
>  **Written 07/20/17**

Your hands rattle uselessly above his head somewhere, handcuffed securely to the headboard, locked into place so you can be a quivering and whimpering mess on top of him. He delves his tongue in deeper, fingers digging into your thighs – you’re all he can taste, all he can see. You are his entire world, and he’s locked into place by the pressure of your weight and your thighs on either side of his head.

Jihoon was absolutely addicted to you, to the sounds you made, to every long and drawn out moan he managed to rip from your lips. He could feel you shaking, could feel the way all your muscles tightened just before you orgasmed each time.

He’s lost count by now, and he’s sure that the number is the farthest thing from your mind.

His cheeks are sticky from your fluids, his chin covered in them – his tongue glides smoothly along your folds, so heavily lubricated by now.

It’s when you orgasm again that you thrash so hard and manage to slide off of him to one side, panting, completely fucked out – Jihoon rises up on one elbow, clean hand tracing up your body to cup your cheek lovingly. The air is cool on his wetted face, but he barely pays it any mind.

His heart skips a beat at the way your eyelashes flutter against your skin, and how you press a kiss to the inside of his wrist. Once the two of you were done, he was going to make sure you were pampered like the damn queen you were.

“Come back here, princess.” He orders you softly, voice rough – you respond with a tired whimper, body jolting when he drags a finger over your much too sensitive clit. “I’m not done tasting you yet.”


	19. Physical [Mingyu/GenderNeutralReader]{NSFW Drabble}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** _Bondage, sensory deprivation, Mingyu is the ultimate tease, no safe word is specified but there is one_  
>  **Written 08/27/16**

Your world existed no farther than Mingyu, your vision reduced to inky blackness, voice effectively quieted by the ball gall gag he’d forced into your mouth, arms numb from how long they’d been tied behind your back. You could feel his fingers against your chest, hooked under the ropes he’d tied tight there, pulling you up into a sitting position. His breath ghosted lightly out over your neck, startling you at how close he’d gotten – his sharp teeth bit into the skin presented to him there, harsh enough you were sure there’d be blood, his tongue darting out to soothe over the skin after he’d spent a full minute sucking and biting at it.

When you whimpered around the gag it was met with a soothing hand on your cheek, completely at odds with how he forcefully yanked you forward with the other hand, causing you to topple forward into his lap, cheek resting on his thigh. Your body was still tingling all over, completely exhausted and boneless from the last five orgasms Mingyu had thrown you into – you barely reacted when his hand slapped down onto your already red tinged ass, a soft yelp the only thing your fucked out voice could manage.

There was a brief moment of nothingness, where Mingyu helped you sit up and then left you there – it would have been scary, if not for how much you trusted him. He could leave you on that bed for hours, and you wouldn’t worry, because you knew he’d always come back for you.

Time was impossible to keep track of when blindfolded, but eventually Mingyu did exactly what you knew he’d do – you could feel his fingers on either side of your head, and then your blindfold was removed and all you could see was Mingyu’s smirking face, and his canines that you knew he used to mark up your skin every chance he got.

“Come on, babe – I think it’s time we did something a little more physical for the both of us.”


	20. Pressed For Time [Sub!Jun/Reader]{NSFW Drabble}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"can i request subjunhui and domreader (female if you can) >.< sorry for asking!"_  
> "request: sub! junhui with a mommy kink <3 <3"  
>  **Warnings:** Mommy kink, blowjob  
>  **Written 06/09/17 ******

He’s in front of you with that coy smile of his dancing around his lips, bent over on all fours as he watches you from the bed. He’s taunting you, goading you into doing what he wants – you really should tell him off, tell him to go back home, back to his friends, back to his life of an idol.

“Mommy?”

But you don’t, because he knows just the way to play you. His shirt and pants have been lost somewhere in your room – you know if you try to find it your search will be fruitless. He hides those things well, especially when he wants something from you like this.

“Yeah baby, I know.” His grin never falters, dark eyes waiting for you to make your move. “But you should go home. You probably don’t have time for this, huh?”

You’re expecting the pouting that comes, looking both out of and in character on his handsome face.

“I have time, mommy.” His protest is softly said, though not without passion – you step towards him and he shuffles back a bit, making room for you on the foot of the bed. You crawl onto it, moving to sit cross legged and crooking your finger towards him. He obeys easily, leaning towards you until your lips meet his.

His taste is distinctly his, a confusing mix of what tastes like apple pie and cinnamon – you’re not sure how he manages to taste like that, but he does.

You nip at his bottom lip before moving down lower, alternating between soft bites and kisses as you go. His breath shudders out softly between his lips above your head, and his hands have come to rest on your knees for balance.

He’s clad in a pair of black boxers, and you have no problem in reaching down to palm him through the fabric. He’s already hot and heavy in your hand, fabric or no fabric, and he cants his hips towards you and whispers out a plea for more.

Despite what he said earlier, you know he doesn’t have the time to spare for more extensive activities, and you press at his chest gently. He goes without a complaint, that coy smile back on his face as he reclines like a damn prince. He knows just as well as you do that he’s pressed for time, and that’s ultimately what keeps him from protesting as you drag the waistband of his boxers down to his thighs.

His coy smile is quickly transformed into a lip bite as you drag your tongue along the underside of his dick – one of his hands has slid up above him to grip the pillow his head was resting on, the other curled into his stomach, gripping it tightly to keep from doing anything unexpected.

Jun, by nature, was a very quiet person in bed, and tonight was no different – periodic tiny gasps was all you got out of him, though his hand did come down to land in your hair gently.

“Keep going, mommy..” The soft whisper is a welcome surprise to you, and when you glance up at him through your lashes he’s got his eyes shut tight, head turned into the pillow. The muscles in his abdomen jump, and you can tell he’s close – that plea just helped confirm it.

Honestly he doesn’t really taste like anything – a blessing, for sure – so you have no problem in hollowing your cheeks out again and sucking him off to completion. He orgasms with a soft little choked groan, shoving his face into the pillow as his entire body locks up from the overwhelming pleasure.

There’s a moments pause as you milk him through his orgasm with your hand, the other smoothing along his stomach and upper chest until his muscles relax and he protests your hand with a soft “mommy, please..”.

You comply and the next few minutes are a rush to get Jun dressed and presentable again – you snort when you see him crouch to drag his shirt out from under your bed, a sheepish smile on his face as he tugs it on.

While he sends a text to Seventeen’s group chat to explain why he was late – some stupid and unbelievable story, no doubt – you gently fix your prince’s hair with a feather-light touch, the strands soft beneath your fingertips. When he’s done with his text he turns his head to kiss your palm, and the entire thing screams domestication so much that it makes you weak.

The two of you pause at the door, his hand resting on the doorknob as he turns back to kiss you goodbye, whispering a soft “I’ll see you tomorrow, mommy.” before going.

You just hope that next time the two of you will have more time together.


	21. Dulce Periculum [Sub!Jihoon/GenderNeutralReader]{NSFW}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"i would love a sub!jihoon fic!"_  
>  _"To piggyback off of the Jihoon request can you write sub! Husband Jihoon who is super whiny and needy but he has to go to dance practice so his wife puts a toy that she controls from her phone in him and messes with him the all day then takes care of her baby boy when he gets back with overstimulation and all that jazz (kink it up chick!) - p.s You're literally my favorite person/writer"_  
>  **Warnings:** Use of a sex toy, exhibitionism, premature ejaculation I guess??? I don’t know how to tag this one, overstimulation  
>  **Written 02/09/18**

There was a strict set of rules implemented for this new little game, decided on by the both of you. He wasn’t allowed to remove the toy. You weren’t allowed to put it on the highest setting. Any break he took he had to text you to tell you how he felt. He wasn’t allowed to escape to the bathroom. And, obviously, if he texted the safe word then you would immediately turn it off.

The two of you had tested the toy out at home first, on you. It wasn’t all that strong on its lower settings, since it had to be quiet enough to not tip off anyone around you, but it was just powerful enough to drive you insane and crave touch. (Which he had been more than willing to give you at the time.)

It was.. sort of awkward, at first. Jihoon wasn’t at all used to moving around a lot – or  _dancing_  – with a vibrator positioned at such an angle that he worried it’d brush across his prostate and wreck him way too well. But he adapted.

He’d gotten to practice early, completely ignored Soonyoung’s cheerful greeting (which was pretty usual for him anyway) and immediately sent you a flurry of texts.

> **‘This is weird’**
> 
> **‘I feel weird’**
> 
> **‘Someone’s going to notice’**

 

> _‘Do you want to stop?’_

 

> **'We haven’t done anything yet’**
> 
> **‘It just feels weird’**
> 
> **‘Like they already know’**

 

> _'We don’t have to’_
> 
> _‘But nobody knows, Jihoonie’_
> 
> _‘They could, but they don’t’_
> 
> _‘It’s our secret’_

Jihoon wet his lips and locked his phone, glancing over at an oblivious Soonyoung and intensely focused Chan. So long as he didn’t royally mess anything up, no one was even going to glance twice at him.

It couldn’t be that bad, right? It had drove you insane but he was going to have something else to focus on.

At the moment he didn’t need to worry about it, but he was wearing baggy sweatpants and a long hoodie that went down to his mid-calves. He was going to end up sweating thirty pounds off, but he was loathe to let any of his members see if he got an erection. (Besides, everyone had a soft spot for him and they’d honestly probably just turn the AC up higher.)

> _‘Jihoon?’_

 

> **‘Yeah, it’ll be fine’**
> 
> **‘I’ll talk to you later’**

And it was fine, for a time. It still felt a bit strange, but you hadn’t activated it and he made it through the first three runs of Mansae and two of Clap with only minor expression changes. It was half-way through Habit that he felt it turn on, small tingles spreading outwards through his body as his voice cracked with surprise. (Just his luck, too, considering he hadn’t really even needed to be singing along.)

Their laughter was sort of just a low roar in the back of Jihoon’s mind, and he heard a comment about “he’s blushing!” and yes, he was fucking blushing, but not for the reason they thought. He was blushing because even with the incredibly small and minuscule feeling he could already feel himself hardening, further spurred on by the fact that the members were  _right there_  and had no idea what was going on. (And fuck this was going to be harder than he thought.)

Making it the rest of the way through Habit was only slightly harder – he lied about his throat hurting and everyone mostly believed him, the sudden voice crack from earlier backing him up, which saved him from having to sing as much.

Next was Lilili Yabbay’s practice and he went straight for his phone, settling down carefully away from everyone else. The sitting position made the vibrations more pronounced but he sort of wanted that, needing something more substantial than the current almost-not-there vibrations.

> **‘Sincerely, fuck you’**

 

> _‘_ 👀 _’_
> 
> _‘You okay though?’_

 

> **‘Like I couldn’t handle this’**

He was talking out of his ass and setting himself up for more torture, and he knew it.

A quarter through the remixed version of Clap –  _again_  – and the vibrations are suddenly upped by what Jihoon swears is three or four notches and he stumbles sideways into Minghao, hands flying down but hovering near his waist as he remembers not to fucking give it away as the taller dancer’s fingers press into Jihoon’s shoulders to steady him.

_Crashing into someone is a great way of not letting anyone know, for fucks sake._

“Sorry..” Jihoon’s response doesn’t really placate anyone considering it’s said through gritted teeth, and he tries to brush it off as losing his balance but Jun’s peering at him worriedly and he realizes that’s sort of a stupid thing to try to lie with considering Minghao had been behind him and to the side.

Soonyoung is his unlikely savior as he calls everyone’s attention back to him when he tells them they’ll just start over – no one blames Jihoon but he wishes someone would protest. His dick had reacted instantly to the sudden increase of vibrations and it pressed uncomfortably against the fabric of his underwear, and it was  _so_  incredibly hard to keep his hands off of it.

Practice better not last much longer. And it better not include much more of Clap’s choreography because getting his leg that high was fucking torture with the damn vibrator.

 

Soonyoung had ended up keeping them there an hour longer than planned – no one really protested but little by little members dropped out of the choreography, opting to sit and die on the floor instead of attempting the choreography again. Jihoon had been one of the first ones out, and he’d settled onto his knees, a position that lessened a majority of the intensity of the vibrations, even when he’d felt it increase another two times and he’d settled back on it pleasurably before remembering where he was and having to force himself to sit back up.

He’s currently on his knees, head bowed and hands crammed into the hoodie’s pocket, shoulders tight and tense as sweat collects at his hairline – Vernon is collapsed beside him somewhere, and Jihoon knows no one’s looking at him as they just assumes he’s as worn out as they are, doesn’t even realize that underneath the hood he’d pulled up roughly (didn’t anyone question that?) he’s biting his lip so hard he tastes blood. The vibrations are wracking his body and it takes everything in him not to shudder along with them, not to whine and whimper as that maddening heat coiled tighter and tighter in his gut. He wanted to reach back and press it exactly where he wanted it, wanted it a tiny bit stronger so he’d stop inching towards the edge and just plunge over it, wanted it to stop so he could retain a shred of his dignity and pride –

When it snaps his fingers curl into fists, trying to reach himself through three layers of fabric and being unable to – he can’t manage to keep a groan to himself, brain panicking because  _he fucking just came in his pants in the practice room in front of everyone_  and he can’t even fucking make any noise, can’t really appreciate one of the most intense orgasms in his life.

Sounds bleed back to him slowly – Mingyu’s making some annoyed comment to Minghao and Minghao’s shutting him down efficiently, there’s a muffled order from Jeonghan for Seungcheol to go get him water, and Vernon is still lying beside Jihoon obliviously, forearm slung over his face. Practice must be officially over.

His face burns – he can fucking feel it – and he glances down to make sure there’s no evidence of what had just happened, which is made incredibly hard by the vibrator still fucking going, his vision blurred.

Of course it was. You had no way of knowing what had happened. Neither of you had planned for  _that_.

“Jihoon.” His head snaps up towards the voice and Joshua’s standing in front of him, holding his phone and a bottle of water out to him. Jihoon doesn’t even bother thanking him for a moment, snatching both items and texting you the safe word at the speed of lighting. A few torturous seconds later and the vibrations cease completely and Jihoon can finally fucking breathe again.

“..Thanks.” His voice doesn’t sound nearly as wrecked as he’d worried about, but Joshua’s expression is  _maddeningly_  amused and Jihoon has never once been annoyed with gentle Joshua before but god he’s annoyed now.

“Of course. I just thought you’d want some help.” Jihoon wants to hit him but Joshua’s flashing a smile and moving away after that comment, and honestly Jihoon feels so weak he’s not even sure he could.

“You’re pretty popular, hyung.” Vernon comments innocently, and Jihoon only now realizes his phone has been buzzing with text after text – you’re probably worried out of your mind. “She’s probably asking where you are, yeah? Hoshi-hyung made us practice way longer than usual..”

Jihoon politely ignores Vernon’s complaining and lets him think whatever he wants to think, muttering that he’ll be back at the dorm later tonight. His legs almost give out the first time he tries to stand but he forces himself to steady and leaves the building quickly, trying to ignore the feeling of it  _still inside him_  or the relatively warm substance that had probably ruined his underwear and pants.

When he opens the door to your place you’re on him instantly, worry having caused your body to be tense ever since he sent the text. He’d responded to your concerned texts with a simple “ _I’m fine_ ” but that didn’t really lessen any of your concern.

“I said I was fine..” He’s embarrassed – you can tell quickly – and also a bit amused at how you hover around him. A kiss is pressed to your lips placatingly. “I just – don’t need your help anymore..?”

“…oh.” Your words are laced with surprise and a small bit of.. excitement? There’s something erotic about that thought, even if you wish you could have been the one to do it. “You should get out of those then. I think you have some clothes you could wear that you left here.”

“You’re okay with that?” His tone is accusative and you blink in surprise, unable to grasp what he’s getting at. (You scoff when he rolls his eyes at you for it.)

His fingers wrap around your wrist and tug you towards your bedroom and you go willingly, watching as he kicks off his sweatpants and boxers.

“Cute ass.” Your comment surprises him and he can’t hide the sudden blush, his gaze darting away from yours.

“This stupid thing –“ You know he’s talking about the vibrator, and he gestures vaguely when he’s not able to put his thoughts into words as quickly as he wants. “It’s not doing anything but it could be.”

You’re used to Jihoon, and you know what he’s trying to say now – the vibrator isn’t on but it’s the promise that it could but that’s caused him to get half-hard again, and now he’s wanting you to fix the problem.

You could do that.

“Then get on the bed, Jihoonie – and take that thing out. I don’t need it to make you feel good.” Your voice suddenly snaps into dominance and the change in him is almost instant, his body moving to the bed and settling back on it like the prince he is after carefully removing the vibrator from himself, shuddering at the suddenly empty feeling.

You crawl up next to him after swiping the lube from the bedside drawer, watching closely as you drizzle some on his dick, watching the way he shivers from the sudden change in temperature.

You’re quick in your ministrations, working him back up to full hardness, hand setting a brutally fast pace that has him gripping your wrist just in an effort to hold on to something.

“Stop holding back. You’re not with them anymore.” Your voice is the catalyst that sparks his first whimpery moan, soft sounds of appreciation that rise in volume the closer he gets to his release.

You slide up to sit next to him, pressing kisses to his cheeks until he whines a complaint and seeks out your mouth. He’s hungry and insistent with it, but can’t keep up the ferocity as your hand slides over his slick cock, making obscene noises.

He grits his teeth when he orgasms, a groan ripping its way out of his throat, chest heaving. Your free arm has slid behind his shoulders, and though you press a kiss to the side of his head you click your tongue at him disapprovingly.

“You did so good until the end.. You just had to keep quiet when you came, huh?” You watch as his eyes flash over your way, pupils dilated.

“Please –“ Neither of you know what he’s pleading for but your hand starts up again, mixing the semen and lube into something even slicker. He writhes under you, used to overstimulation and yet at the same time never used to it completely, mouth hanging open as broken moans filtered out.

This time when he comes he’s almost shockingly loud, crying out as his body releases all the tension in a blinding spark of heat and electric shocks.

“You did well, Jihoonie.” You soothe softly, fingers stroking his sweaty hair. “Let’s take a bath together, alright? Get everything all clean.”

He nods wordlessly, letting himself be coddled as he floated along in his post-orgasm haze. A bath together sounded good – he’d get to wash away all the evidence of today, as well as relax his muscles from practice, something the other boys would definitely not be able to revel in.

A small smirk pulled across his lips, and he could feel your questioning gaze but didn’t explain it. A bath would be the perfect time to get back at you for today, too.


	22. Ride [Sub!Vernon/Reader]{NSFW}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"can i request a sub!vernon when u make him feel good by riding him? thank u"_  
>  **Warnings:** Riding, orgasm denial/edging  
>  **Written 10/01/18**

Every small rock of your hips caused a series of electric tingles to bloom outward across Vernon’s skin, his head tilted back as far as possible, fingers gripping your thighs hard enough to bruise. A drop of sweat trickled down his neck that you traced with a sharp fingernail, watching ravenously as his adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed thickly.

“Feel good?” You murmured, lightly trailing your fingernails down his neck, across his pecs, lower still until you were at his hips, pinching the sensitive skin. He let out a strangled groan, the closest he could get to an affirmation with how long you’d been edging him.

You, on the other hand, had already orgasmed a few times and was content to just rock back on forth on top of him, watching as his sanity slowly unraveled. It was always shocking exactly how much self-control he had when it came to sex, but something you always took full advantage of.

Reaching a hand down you wrapped your fingers around him – ignoring his weak thrust upwards at the sudden touch – dipping them into your sopping core alongside his cock before trailing your fingers back up to your clit. The barest of touches sets your nerves on fire – to be honest, you were pretty over-stimulated yourself at this point – and a soft moan filters past your lips at the overwhelming feeling.

His eyes snap open to meet yours at the sound – they’re dark, pupils blown so wide with lust that the browns of his irises are small slivers. He licks his chapped lips and reaches up to slot his thumb against your clit, brushing aside your own fingers.

“If you can make me cum again then I’ll let you orgasm.” You say, your voice shaking in a way that annoys you – but he doesn’t seem to notice in the least, putting all his sudden effort into making sure you get off as quickly as possible. You’re not completely sure but you think he’s eying your chest and the way it moves when you bounce on his dick, and you repress the urge to roll your eyes – luckily, your pleasure spikes and all other thoughts are wiped from your brain as your final orgasm sweeps over you, your walls tightening around him.

Vernon groans long and low, harmonizing with your moans, muscles tensed and hand still on your thigh tightening to the point where it almost hurts.

“Fuck I –  _fuck_  –“ He mumbles incoherently, doing his best not to fall over that edge until you give him the okay, even with your inner walls fluttering around him  _so_   _tightly_.

“You’ve done so well, babe,  _cum_  for me –“ The words are scarcely out of your mouth before his body is going taut in an entirely new way, back arching off of the bed towards you. A mostly silent moan is torn from deep within his chest, cracking his voice on the few audible sounds he makes. He pulses hot and heavy inside of you, filling the condom he had complained about wearing but had ultimately worn for your sake.

For a long moment the only sound in the room is your combined harsh breathing, but a soft chuckle works its way out of Vernon eventually, throwing his forearm over his face.

“That’s exhausting..” He mutters, and you laugh and bend down to peck his exposed lips before slowly rising off of him.

“Yeah, well my legs hurt.” You grumble in response, feeling a warm burst in your chest at the way he laughs again at your comment. “Hang tight, I’m going to go get something to clean us up.”

“Mmn.” He makes some sort of vague sound of acknowledgement, rubbing his thumb one last time across the thigh he no doubt bruised before you escape from his grasp. You know that by the time you come back he will have disposed of the condom already and sought out wherever your clothes had ended up, and you smile at the thought, loving the casual routine the two of you have so easily fallen into with one another.


	23. In Your Hands [Sub!Joshua/Reader]{NSFW}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"hello! you are such an amazing writer! could i please request a joshua smut where he is super super submissive and whiny but inocent in the beginning. tbh i really can't see lil gentleman josh as anything but a submissive little baby boy"_  
>  _"hi luna! could i please request a smut with jisoo where he is really really submissive and innocent- like one where he is a cute church boy: shy virgin gentleman bby i would love it if you could have the reader totally dom him (making sure he's comfortable ofc) thank you so much. i just love the thought of wrecking sweet little innocent josh"_  
>  **Warnings:** Fingering, pegging, lingerie, mentions of sexting and phonesex  
>  **Written 06/10/17**

Joshua was, in essence, the boring and typical “perfect” boy. In high school he never missed a day of school, got top grades, most likely to succeed, valedictorian, the works – and grown up he wasn’t much different. You were pretty sure you could count on one hand the number of times he’d missed church, or the times he’d gotten in trouble, or even the times he’d messed anything up.

You knew him pretty well just from living in the same neighborhood, and even if you weren’t super close to him the two of you interacted pretty frequently, even if it was just a nod of the head and a smile in passing on the street.

And it was because of all of this that you hadn’t been too shy - hell, you weren’t shy at all, if we were being honest - to ask him to help you move a table into your small home. You didn’t live by yourself, but your parents were frequently out on trips – “bonding” they called it. You didn’t really care, so long as the house was paid for and they were gone.

And it was during this moving-table-time that his shirt had ridden up and exposed one deliciously tanned hip, jeans hanging a bit low and revealing a strip of blue lace.

And of course, you being you, pointed it out immediately.

“Josh, are you wearing  _lingerie_?”

He’d flushed immediately, dropping the table and startling himself in the process, staring at you with widened eyes – he’d been a mess, too flustered to know how to respond, too panicked to be able to lie to get out of it. (He’d probably never had to lie in his life before, anyway.)

So he’d ended up begging you not to tell anyone, and from that day forward he could never look you in the eye without blushing.

You – you were fine. Instead of being embarrassed you’d been intrigued – did he wear it often? All the time? And why? Was it a sort of kink for him? A sexual one? Or did he simply just like how they felt?

You were worried you were obsessing over him too much.

And then he’d texted you, and you’d realized you weren’t the only one who was still caught up on that incident. It’d been a long novel of a text he’d sent you – it somehow fit him to a T – about how he was afraid you’d gotten the wrong impression of him.

And, once again, you’d of course asked him if he was wearing it again that night.

It took a bit of convincing on your part to get him to respond to that line of questioning, but he had been, and through a long string of texts everything ended up escalating into a sudden and unexpected sexting session.

You’d have thought that after that ordeal the two of you would have felt even more awkward, but it seemed to somehow have fixed the previous rift separating you from him. He still blushed when crossing paths with you, but a small smile always played around his lips, like the two of you had done something naughty.

You had learned two very important things about Joshua through those texts – the first one being that he absolutely screamed submissiveness, which in turn made you just want to wreck him. The second was that he had no idea whatsoever about even the basest of kinks – you’d mentioned “pegging” in your texts and he’d simply asked what that’d meant. It was sort of cute, in an innocent way.

While your question about whether or not he wore lingerie often had been answered, you’d simply realized that your interest lay not in his clothing habits but instead in him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed him like that before – he was a very attractive young man, physically fit and very kind. He’d just always been your neighbor, a friend you’d gone to school with and never really gotten to know.

Even now you didn’t know that much about him, only knew his sexual side – and you used the term “sexual” loosely – from the continued string of sexting and the occasional phone sex that seemed to happen more and more frequently between the two of you. Honestly, the two of you hadn’t really talked much outside of that.

Which is why when you got a text from him fifteen minutes ago you’d expected his usual lead in to the risqué and dirty, and not the brief and confusing messages of “Come over” and “I need you”.

Not really knowing what to think you’d headed over to his house, walking through the door that had been unlocked – which was just stupid, and you ended up locking it behind you – and up the stairs to where you assumed he was. A small ball of anxiety was nestled in your gut – you knew you were probably way off the mark, but “I need you” just screamed sexual desire.

But, you were also talking about Joshua. So.

“Joshua?” Your voice echoes in his dark house, and you bound up the steps easily. You’d been in there once or twice, long ago – it hadn’t changed much, and you take a guess on which room is his.

The door is only half open, and you push it open quietly – you’re not surprised when it’s well-oiled enough that it doesn’t squeak on its hinges. What  _does_  surprise you is what he’s doing.

Honestly, it fucking drops your jaw.

There he is, Joshua fucking perfect boy Hong on all fours, ass in the air as he slowly fucks himself with his own fingers, the same blue laced lingerie from before hanging around one of his legs.

“You mentioned pegging before –“ His voice is high and sweet, punctuated with small little moans that make your mouth dry up and leave you utterly speechless. “It really hurt at first, but it feels so good now.”

His words are so innocent and light that it makes you dizzy, and your eyes are locked on his fingers slowly disappearing and reappearing. It’s clear that you had helped Joshua get in touch with a side of him that he hadn’t known existed.

“I –“ You’re not trying to reject him – no fucking way – but you also have absolutely no fucking idea what to say to him in this circumstance. He looks some sort of a chiseled god – admittedly, a god you want to fucking wreck, but a god nonetheless.

“Will you fuck me?” His words are strong and clear and you choke on your own saliva at them, eyes wide when his looks over his shoulder at you again. He looks so needy, so utterly fuckable that you take a few steps forward without even realizing it.

You don’t even need to ask the question “with what” – you can see the harness lying on the floor a few feet away, and you know he must have bought it recently online. He definitely had had no idea what that thing was a few weeks ago.

He must have been planning this, and that simple thought spurs you on.

“Where does that leave us?” It feels bizarre to be having a normal conversation with Joshua while he fingerfucks himself, but it’s bizarre in the best kinds of way.

“Friends who have sex together?” He answers back, still with that same light and innocent voice, though his face has since been painted in red as the fact that you were watching him had finally sank in.

“And you’re sure about this?” You have to check, but you’re fully expecting the nod you get in response. When Joshua makes up his mind about something, that’s all there is to it.

As you go step into it, you’re mostly not nervous – you’d done things like this once or twice before. It was how you’d known so much about the subject when talking to Joshua about it before.

“You’ve got to tell me what feels good, though.” You warn, sidling up to the side of the bed. Joshua nods hastily, a simple jerk of the head as he scoots to the edge, dark eyes on you, watching and waiting to be told what to do. So fucking innocent and horny.

You take a minute to appreciate Joshua’s golden body, toned from bike riding and running and whatever else it was he did that you didn’t know about. He had an equally beautiful cock, just the right size for you to wrap your hand around – he jerked when you did so, head falling back and revealing his pretty and flawless neck.

Your other hand drifted down to his hole, testing how stretched and ready he was – his breath caught in his throat when you did, eye snapping open to watch you closely, a desperate plea for more dropping from his lips before he could even think.

“Please, hurry up – I feel so empty, I need it, I need you to fill me up, please…” If there was one thing the phone sex had taught him, it was how to be vocal.

You don’t waste any more time and align the tip of the dildo with his ass, pushing in slowly – his head lolls back again, unaccustomed to something so big stretching him out and filling him up.

“You okay?”

“ _Fuck_  – fuck yes,  _yes_..” Is his quick reply to your question, and he does his best to thrust against you, trying to get you to move faster, the lingerie slipping off his ankle and falling quietly to the floor. (You refuse, of course. No matter what he wants, it’s better to be slow at the beginning to make sure he really is okay.)

You roll your hips slowly at first, getting a feel for it as well as letting Joshua get adjusted to the new feeling. He doesn’t seem to need that much time at all – in no time he’s urging you on to go faster, perfectly accepting it when you guide him to wrap his legs around your waist.

His moans are high and sweet as you steadily pound into him, cock freely leaking pre-come onto his lower stomach and creating a sticky mess.

“Harder.. please..” You match his requests with only a little bit of difficulty, and every time he just moans louder in ecstasy. “You’re so good to me.. I’m such a spoiled little boy, aren’t I?”

The dirty talk has been a decently new implement to your phone sex, but seeing the words actually coming from his mouth is something completely different, something  _dirty_  and risqué.

“Yeah – you’re my spoiled little boy, Joshua. And I make you feel so good, don’t I? Don’t I fuck you so well?”

“Yes.. yes, jesus christ  _yes_..” You can’t help but giggle softly at his reply, and his eyes slide open to gaze at you as the realization of what he just said sets in, face flushing again.

“Does it still feel good?” You ask, trying to get his mind off of that comment – you wrap your hand around his leaking cock, and he’s instantly lost in pleasure again, moaning loud enough that you’re worried the neighbors will hear.

“Ye-es..” His words are broken by a gasp as you shift your hips, angling yourself deeper inside of him, his heels pressing into your back as he tenses his legs at the sudden extra pleasure. His moans have all but tapered off, and you what that means, how he’s just trying to keep himself quiet since he’s on the edge.

“Are you going to come for me, Josh? Are you going to come for me while I fuck you?”

So accustomed to hearing your voice and having it send him over the edge, everything else is just added pleasure and he orgasms with a heavy grunt, and you can almost hear the voice crack that would have happened if he’d try to verbalize anything.

You’re too tired to try overstimulation tonight, and Joshua looks absolutely fucked out and wrecked, and he barely reacts when you pull it out of him. He reaches out to try to stop you from leaving, eyes still shut, and your heart inexplicably breaks – you wouldn’t just leave him after something like that, though you suppose he wouldn’t know that.

He’s panting and exhausted and your hips are sore and places you didn’t even know could get sore are sore, but the two of you crash your lips together in a lust driven kiss – and holy fuck he’s even a good kisser – trying to convey to him that you wanted this, and that it was okay that he wanted this, and no, you weren’t just going to leave him here by himself to think about what he’d done.

It doesn’t occur to either of you that that’s the first actual kiss the two of you had shared, and when you step out of the harness you leave it where it is on the floor, not really sure what to do with it.

You’d expected the situation to be more awkward than it was, and you find yourself climbing up onto the bed to lay down beside Joshua, gently stroking his sweaty hair out of his closed eyes.

“You okay?”

“Mhm..” His breathy reply is cute and screams exhaustion, and you sit up to pull the sheets up higher to cover him up, even if the bed was sort of dirty with sweat and sex.

“Is it okay if I stay here tonight?” You check, eyes scanning his expression for any signs of discomfort or pain – there are none, just a sleep and happily sated smile.

“Yeah..” He mumbles softly, turning his head towards your warmth when you lie down next to him. It’s sort of weird, lying there next to him for the first time, but really it was low on your list of “weird things I’ve done with Joshua” and you don’t mind it at all when he ends up fast asleep with his head on your shoulder.

In fact, you sort of prefer him there, keeping your ‘spoiled little baby’ close to make sure he was okay.

It’s an awkward first night for the both of you, yeah, and you hadn’t gotten off and Joshua had come drying on his stomach, but you had a feeling that no matter how awkward the morning after was going to be, the two of you were going to be okay.

And you were right. The morning after was filled with embarrassed laughter – “You’re sure you’re not a little sore?” “I’m perfectly fine! I promise!” – and a charmingly cute breakfast together, and you found you loved the way his eyes turned into little smiles when he laughed really hard at something, and the two of you may have shared a couple more kisses throughout the day, but really, neither of you even thought twice about them.

And this time when you ask him about the lingerie he blushes and looks away, but doesn’t stop your groping fingers from tugging down the waistband to his jeans.


	24. Alarm [Seungcheol/Reader/Jeonghan]{NSFW}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** _Kind of vaguely described morning ‘sex’, daddy kink, some stuff is implied/mentioned that I don’t think needs a warning. This was one of the first smut things I ever wrote so it's pretttty bad lmao_  
>  **Written 06/29/16**

**7:00 AM**

Your normal alarm went off, sounding an increasingly annoying chime instead of some cute song to wake up the sleeping people in bed. Jeonghan was always the one who drowsily turned this off.

It may have seemed surprising that Jeonghan was the only one who woke up to it, since he loved to sleep so much; however, he also woke very easily, and he always hit the alarm with all of his anger at being awake so early. (The poor thing was lucky to have survived so long.)

After that he’d dazedly take in his bedmates, slowly slipping back into the warmth of sleep. Your head would almost always be on his chest, and he’d take a good few minutes to just stroke his fingers through your hair, a tiny, sleepy smile gracing his features as he watched how peaceful you were, how if he just held his hand against your head you’d unconsciously lean into it, how he could sing something softly to you and you’d smile in your sleep. He was always careful about singing so soon after waking up, knowing he could damage his voice – but even if he was barely trying the fact that his voice alone could make you smile made him feel ridiculously proud.

Seungcheol would be wrapped around your body, one arm thrown over your waist, the other under his head. On rare mornings one of his hands would have somehow found its way to Jeonghan’s shoulder, and the younger boy would reach up and fall back asleep holding Coup’s fingers. This morning was a usual one, though, and Jeonghan shifted closer and kissed Seungcheol’s forehead before falling back asleep.

**7:30 AM**

This was when Seungcheol woke up, drearily raising up on his forearm so he could reach over both you and Jeonghan to turn off the alarm that was playing some song he couldn’t quite recall the name of. Then he’d collapse back down beside you, one hand coming up to push your hair back behind your ear and pull the covers farther up your body. You were still on Jeonghan’s chest at this point, and his own chest would swell at the cute sight each and every morning, and in a sudden burst of affection he’d pepper Jeonghan’s cheek with kisses until the smaller boy groaned angrily in his sleep.

Seungcheol knew the only reason Jeonghan wasn’t fully awake yet was because his routine dictated that he slept through the second alarm – but whenever he thought about this detail he started getting all warm and fuzzy inside, and he’d hide his sleepily exuberant smile in his pillow. He wasn’t sure why, but the thought that the three of you had a  _routine_  made him ridiculously happy.

He’d fall back asleep with either yours or Jeonghan’s face imprinted behind his eyelids, completely content.

**8:00 AM**

Finally, it was your turn to wake up to Ailee’s “손대지마”, and it’d take you long into the second verse before you finally lifted your head from the angel’s chest beneath you to turn the alarm off. You’d get the chance to lay your head back down for a full thirty or so seconds before a hand was softly rubbing your shoulder, slowly pushing you off.

“We’ve got to get up now, ja-gi-ya~”

You’d fucking never tire of Jeonghan’s ‘just-woke-up-voice’ – even if he pissed you off when he pushed you off his chest – and with his black hair spread out around him like some sort of reverse halo, you just couldn’t help yourself.

The kiss was insanely sloppy and incredibly sleepy, and you weren’t sure it could have fit the moment any better. His hand remained on your shoulder, still soft, fingers barely holding on but still somehow feeling like an iron grip while his other hand gently stroked across your cheek through the entire kiss, thumb brushing over your lips when the two of you finally parted. Your eyes darted over sideways, a sort of relieved breath leaving you when you saw that Seungcheol was still sleeping soundly. You knew he’d have to wake up soon – but he deserved the rest for now.

Soft, warm fingers gently turned your head back in what you were sure Jeonghan deemed the “appropriate” direction, seeking out your lips once again. He was always such a sucker for morning kisses, which was unfortunate considering he also had the tendency to wake up with morning wood, and the kissing never did anything to help make it go away. (You used the term “unfortunate” lightly.)

The soft and sweet making out slowly turned into something more passionate, albeit sleepy passion. The shirt you were wearing – you were pretty sure it was an old t-shirt of Seungcheol’s – had slid down your shoulder, far past the point that would have been deemed acceptable. Jeonghan’s hand had slowly followed it’s descent, but now sat resting on the waistband of your sleeping shorts, his other hand caressing your cheek and wandering off into your hair every now and then.

One thing about Jeonghan was his ability to be completely dominant and aggressive one night and then switch into a sweet and submissive lover the next. This was one of the latter moments – he seemed thoroughly intent on kissing you and letting you guide the entire situation, something that thrilled you and woke you up just a little bit more than you were before. You were just rising up into a sitting position so you could slide on top of Jeonghan when a voice, even deeper than normal from sleep, startled the both of you.

“Are you just going to forget about me?” There was a distinctly whining tone to Seungcheol’s voice, and he pulled himself up to mirror you. “You two sucked each other’s faces for so long, I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to intrude.”

Jeonghan scoffed, pulling himself farther up on his pillow but ultimately remaining laid down. His hand had yet to leave your shorts, and you felt his touch burning against the places where he was touching your skin.

“She’s a better kisser than you. And when have you ever not been invited?”

“Better than me?” He rose up on his knees, scooting closer to Jeonghan’s face. In that moment he seemed to have somehow grown broader, exuding a more powerful aura. His fingers held Jeonghan’s chin, and the smaller boy was glaring defiantly back, almost inviting the bruising kiss that Seungcheol gave him.

It wasn’t that Seungcheol  _always_  had to be dominant – you were still pleasantly surprised that he made a ridiculously good submissive when he wanted to – but his default in any sexual encounter was complete and utter dominance, and you weren’t sure there’d ever been a morning encounter where he’d been anything else. He was also stealing Jeonghan from you at the moment, and as infuriating as it was, you decided to just let them have at it. (It may have been infuriating, but it was also hot. And they also deserved it.)

Jeonghan had a penchant for biting the older boy’s lips, something that frustrated the dominant Seungcheol to no end, and in no time he had scooted back out of Jeonghan’s reach, despite the whine that left his throat. Jeonghan’s hand had never left your waistband, though, and you could see Seungcheol focus on that before seemingly coming to some sort of conclusion.

“(Y/n.)” You perked up at the sound of your name being said with that sinfully aroused voice. “Rub that pretty dick of his through his pants.” He had reclined against the headboard, within touching distance again as he off-handedly palmed himself through his sweatpants. (The day you’d ended up sleeping with them was the day he’d been forced to wear some sort of clothes to bed, though he still didn’t wear a shirt.)

It was a punishment for his lips being bitten, but you knew Jeonghan didn’t necessarily mind it. (That’s also probably why S.Coups chose it. He never liked doing the more ‘punishing’ punishments so early in the morning, and he almost never made rules to go with them.)

Not looking to get reprimanded by Seungcheol for stalling, you set to your task, almost leisurely stroking Jeonghan through his pants. He was canting his hips up into your hand, almost glaring at you for the slow pace you had set – though he was refraining from touching you on instinct, you knew he wanted nothing more than to force a faster pace.

“Fuck, look at how good he’s being, daddy. Not touching me at all.”

You heard more than saw Seungcheol’s breath hitch at the name, and a soft growl preluded his next words.

“I see that, baby girl. He’s being such a good boy.” Jeonghan looked mildly irked that he was completely submissive to both you and Seungcheol, but the praise from both of you had softened his anger considerably. You knew he’d probably just set out to be dominant next time to make up for it. “But it’s too early to tease him for too long. Hurry up and suck him so he can get you off to return the favor.”

“So demanding,  _daddy_.” Jeonghan’s words were sarcastic, but that wasn’t uncommon in a situation where you and Seungcheol were both dominating him. He shut up pretty quickly once you took him in your mouth though, breath leaving his lips in a relieved sigh. It was too early for him to be moaning as loudly and freely as he normally would – a sweet little moan every now and then slipped through, wonderfully sinful little sounds.

“Is she doing good, baby?” Seungcheol had his dick out, completely hard in his hand as he watched you give Jeonghan a blowjob. The response he got was a noncommittal “mhm”, though the younger boy had forced his eyes open at the question.

“How good?”

You gazed up at Jeonghan through your lashes, making sure he made eye-contact with you before deep-throating him. You could still remember the time when you couldn’t deep-throat a guy, and it made you immensely proud that you’d finally gotten the hang of it, and that you could make Jeonghan feel good like this.

“Oh –  _fuck_  – she’s good. Really good.” A pause, one in which Jeonghan’s hands tightened momentarily on the bedsheets, eyes sliding shut again. “Fuck.. I bet you wish she was doing this to you, daddy.”

The way he was using the term “daddy” seemed more insulting than anything at this point, but Seungcheol didn’t seem to mind at all. Jeonghan would never insult him and mean it during sex, and hearing the younger boy say “fuck” always worked to distract Seungcheol from the topic at hand. (It distracted you too. Such a filthy word was not fit to be used by Jeonghan – and yet he used it and it was incredibly arousing.)

“Of course I do – but she’s doing such a good job with you, and watching the two of you is – it’s fucking amazing.”

You felt a hand in your hair, pushing it back behind your ear and out of the way in a very Seungcheol-esque manner. You glanced up to confirm it – even when jacking off, he was still watching the both of you to make sure everything was going smoothly. (He was rougher at night – morning sex was always much, much sweeter.)

Jeonghan usually had great stamina – you all did, honestly – but mornings were lazy and sensual, and he came with a soft cry that Seungcheol swallowed up with his own mouth.

It was mostly a blur to you after that – especially once Seungcheol pulled you over to him, pulling down your shorts while his mouth sought out your clit. The rest was definitely a mess of pleasure and murmured words, but you were pretty sure Seungcheol came before you, courtesy of Jeonghan’s handjob. (You also thought he came first because of the growl you felt vibrating against you that sent you over the edge.)

You had begun to doze back off after your orgasm, and warm, strong arms pulled you against a broad chest, nose nuzzling against your neck and lips pressing sweetly at the skin presented to him. Another set of lips were pressed to the corner of your mouth – you could tell it was Jeonghan, just from how it felt.

“Hannie, stop shifting and lay down here.”

Another soft kiss was placed against the shirt covering your shoulder, this one much sleepier than before, and you felt a different set of hands sliding you off Seungcheol and onto the bed between the two bodies of warmth.

“Happy?” Jeonghan muttered, voice muffled by your hair. He’d buried his face against the soft strands, and you knew his question was to Seungcheol’s previous statement.

“Incredibly happy.” And you knew Seungcheol’s sappy reply was an “I love you” – one you echoed back to him.

**9:00 AM**

This was when Seungkwan would start beating on your door, shouting about how Jeonghan and S.Coups needed to get out of bed to take their showers for the day, and the three of you realized you once again failed to get out of bed on time.


	25. Night-Time Needs [Sub!Vernon/GenderNeutralReader]{NSFW}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"oh! and if you wanted a sub!vernon request, how about sub!vernon and phone sex ?? calls y/n up at like 3 am like hey i'm needy pleas help"_  
>  **Warnings:** Masturbation, phone sex  
>  **Written 03/17/17**

“Babe.” His voice is rough and whispered through the phone, and your brain struggles to process who the hell is calling you at three am and why their voice is so fucking sexy. And.. needy?

“….what?” You finally answer, voice groggy. The voice on the other end of the line let’s out a disbelieving chuckle, the owner obviously still trying to be quiet.

“It’s me, babe.” It takes you a minute, but as you slowly become more coherent it becomes more than obvious that the owner of the voice is none other than Vernon.

Of course it was – who else would call you “babe” other than your boyfriend?

“Oh… oh. Hi. What’s up?” You pull yourself into a vague sitting position, propped up against your pillows. Your room is dark, illuminated only by a small nightlight plugged into your wall. Tripping over unseeable things in your room at night was a bitch without it.

“I miss you.” You almost smack your forehead at this, because your boyfriend lives, what, 25 minutes away at the most? And he really felt the need to  _call_  you because of that?

“I swear to god, Hansol –“  You did not think that was good enough reason to wake you, and he quickly caught on to that and got straight to the point.

“Babe, I’m horny.” There’s a long stretch of silence after that, and you can almost hear his awkwardness manifesting itself into something tangible and loud. Served him right, for waking you up over something he could have taken care of himself.

But he  _was_  your boyfriend and you  _did_  like pleasuring him, even if it was just verbally.

“How hard are you, Vernon?” You phrase it easily, the words dropping from your tongue as effortlessly as breathing. “And  _where_  are you?” If he was whispering, he couldn’t be in an ideal place for this to go down.

“Uh – pretty hard. I’m lying in bed, so I’ve just been rubbing myself through my boxers like you usually do.”

“Yeah? Are you leaking through the cotton like you do when I do it?” You hear a low groan from his end, and it brings a smile to your face. You can picture him not being able to sleep and leisurely palming himself through his boxers, and it excites you more than it should. “Yeah?”

“Not – not yet. I can’t do it as well as you..” He trails off there, and you can audibly hear him swallow. “I haven’t  _actually_  touched myself yet.”

“Do you want me to praise you for that? Huh?” Your words are harsh but your tone is not, and you hear him cough quietly.

“Yeah?”

“You did good, baby, not touching yourself at all. And I’m gonna make you come hard from just my voice, okay? You’ve just got to listen to me and do what I say.”

“Hang on.”  Vernon says the words so quickly you barely understand him, but you know what he’s doing. He does this every time you two do something like this – he goes to the bathroom and locks the door, and then turns the shower on. Considering it’s so late at night you know anyone who happens to hear it is going to think something’s suspicious about him taking a shower in the middle of the night, but you don’t really care. It’s their own fault for sticking around to listen to him.

You shift into a better position, eyes closing to better imagine your boyfriend. His deep eyes always filled with lust so easily, so readily, and a light flush would settle high-up on his cheekbones, painting his face and clearly showing his neediness.

“Babe?” He’s checking to see if you’re still there, and you respond with a soft “mhm”. You wouldn’t just leave him like this, after all.

“We good now, Vernonnie?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” He answers, a sound in the background coming through that sounds sort of like him thunking his head back against the door. “I’m not sure how much time we have though. I’m pretty sure some of them are still up.”

“Slide your hand down under the waistband, then.” You say, cutting straight to the point. You don’t want anyone to stop him anymore than he does. “Wrap your fingers around it, really lightly.”

“Ah – shit..” He groans breathily, a sound you sort of wonder if you should attempt to record just because of how it sounds like pure sex. He’s got to be really horny if that was all it took.

“Does it feel good, Vernon? You feel how hot and heavy you are?” He hisses out another curse, and you silently praise yourself. “Can you imagine my mouth around it?”

“ _Fuck_ – are you sure we can’t do video chat or something? I want to see you so bad, see your –“

“No baby, you’re just getting my voice tonight.” There’s a surge of adrenaline that runs through you at his frustrated whine of a response, and even though you originally said that just to punish him for calling you so late you liked that added bonus.

You can hear the lewd sound of his hand on his dick, slick and wet, his groans and breathy moans filtering through the line. His voice is naturally deep but around you it takes on a higher quality, more submissive – you know how to make him feel amazing, and he’s more than willing to listen.

“Fuck – wanna –  _ah_  – wish I could kiss you..”

“Can’t you imagine my lips on your neck, Vernonnie? My hand on your hard cock, bringing you closer and closer –“

“ _God_ , (Y/n), I want you here, want to fuck you so  _fucking_  bad –“ His words are a jumbled mess of pleas and wishes, and you croon at him softly through the phone.

“It’s okay, baby, you’ll see me tomorrow. We can sneak away and have a  _long_ and  _slow_  fuck – would you like that?”

“ _Yes_ , holy fuck yes –“

“You gotta come for me first, Vernon. Tighten your fingers – you know what I do – tighten them and come hard for me.”

Vernon orgasms with a guttural groan, and your stomach clenches in response. You can see him easily in your mind’s eye, body covered in a thin layer of sweat, face flushed and body spasming every so often with pleasure, his hand covered in white.

“There we go baby. You did good – did it feel good?”

“Mmmhm..” He murmurs softly in response, voice vibrating deep in his chest. He sounds so completely pleasured that you almost feel insulted since you weren’t physically there.

“We need to go to sleep, Vernon. Okay?”

“Yeah..” He coughs, voice cracking before he clears his throat. “Yeah. God, that felt so good.”

“You’re welcome.” He chuckles at your monotoned sass, and you smile at the heaven-sent sound.

“Thanks babe.”

“Goodnight Vernon.” Neither of you bother with “I love you’s” - you know it’s implied, and it always serves to send Vernon into a blush-induced silence.

As you settle back down under the covers your phone vibrates annoyingly, and you grab it and click the notification without thinking.

You’re met with a picture of Vernon in his bed, outline of his hard-on clear in his boxers with one hand grasped firmly around it. You can’t see the top of his face but he’s biting into his bottom lip, and you almost verbally gasp at the unexpected sight. He must have taken it before calling you.

There’s no text along with it, but you know what he’s doing. It’s a lame attempt to get back at you for not going on video chat with him – even so, you can’t stop looking at the provocative image, heat stirring within you.

It was going to be a long night.


	26. Dominantly Submissive [Sub!Jihoon/GenderNeutralReader]{NSFW}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Could you do a smut with any of the members of thigh riding and daddy kink. ?"_  
>  **Warnings:** Daddy kink – though it’s used in a submissive way, thigh-riding, auto-erotic asphyxiation if you squint super freaking hard, extra fussy Jihoon, Jihoon hates everything  
>  **Written 10/23/16**

A blush sat high on his cheeks, his expression one of annoyed embarrassment – “I’m going to be  _way_  too heavy for your leg!” had been his previous complaint, and he was being proved wrong as you easily supported his body on one leg. (Maybe after a few hours this would get painful, but you weren’t really planning on sitting there for that long.)

Before that it had been “it won’t feel good” and before even that it’d been a flat “no” – but you had ways of getting what you wanted, and when it came right down to it Jihoon just couldn’t say no to you forever.

“See? I’m supporting you just fine, Ji-yah.”

“ _Shut up._ ” He was as prickly as ever, tone harsh and stinging – if you didn’t know him better you’d think he were actually upset with you. Unfortunately for him, you  _did_  know him better, and you knew he was just embarrassed. He was probably the cutest and most interesting sub you’d ever met – he liked to think he was dominant and controlling, but even when you were being topped by him it was you calling all the shots. (Though that wasn’t to say he was purely a submissive – he was the switchiest switch you’d ever come across, to be honest.)

And you’d never met any sub who liked to be  _called_  “daddy”. You figured it just added to the power-trip he felt – it was a carefully blended mix of submission and dominance that Jihoon liked, and you’d learned it well by now.

“You gonna just sit there all day, Jihoonie?” Your question was met with a haughty glare – you were leaned back against the couch, and from his position he nearly towered over you. How cute of him to think that  _he_  was in control because of a mere height difference.

“That’s not what you’re supposed to call me.” It was a bold declaration, but you allowed it. You probably should have led with calling him “daddy” anyway – it would have made things a lot smoother for sure. (But maybe you liked this little fight, how Jihoon clung to whatever shreds of dominance he thought he had control of.)

“ _Daddy_. Please move – I want to see how good I can make daddy feel.” You congratulated yourself silently – earlier you’d talked him into taking off his jeans before he climbed on top of your leg, and the instant he shifted his hips ever so slightly you knew it had been a good call. The fabric of his boxers were thin, and you noticed the way his expression flickered at the sudden and unexpected stimulation to his covered dick.

“Daddy – you can hold on to my shoulders if you need to.” He huffed in annoyance at your comment, balling his hands up in the sleeves of his sweater. (It was so big on him it was almost comical – almost.)

“I’m fine.” He snapped, letting his sweater-pawed hands rest on his hips, face set in an expression of tense concentration as he moved his hips ever so slightly back and forth and did his absolute best to seem unimpressed with the entire ordeal.

“Daddy knows best.” You agreed, mostly for his own benefit. It was better to stroke his ego in the beginning, otherwise he’d just get angry and refuse to do anything.

The longer you watched him the more pronounced his blush became, and his gaze was studiously on anything but you. Your hand drifted lazily over your own pants, fingertips brushing ever so slightly over your covered heat - the light tingling sensations you got as a result were pleasant, but nowhere near pleasant enough to actually get you anywhere. That was okay though – this was mostly about Jihoon.

You placed your hands gently on his hips, above his hands, watching the way his gaze finally landed on you, eyes narrowed. There wasn’t a no touching rule or anything, so you weren’t really concerned with the empty threats his glare promised. One of his sweater-pawed hands had come up to cover yours, most likely to try and remove it, but when you flashed your  _sweet_  smile at him - the one that got him to say yes to this in the first place – he couldn’t find it in himself to force your hands away. He simply averted his gaze again, one hand resting over yours, doing his best to keep his expression at “this is a waste of time”. He was so fussy today.

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” You questioned softly, not missing the way his jerky and awkward hip movements from before had melted into something slower and more relaxed the more he got the hang of the motions. “Did I do something wrong, daddy?”

“No.” Jihoon answered your question instantly, head turning back to focus solely on you and you alone, hips stilling. “You are perfection.” His sweater-pawed hands came up to rest lightly on your cheeks, the tips of his fingers touching your smooth skin lightly. “Don’t you see how you’re affecting me? How big I am for you?” He had leaned in close to you, foreheads touching, and you closed the last few centimeters between the two of you to press your lips to his.

Jihoon always had a distinct taste when you kissed him – it was a fresh taste, almost like a type of peppermint laced tea. His hair was silky smooth beneath your fingers as you raked them through it, a soft, barely there whine releasing from his throat when you tugged lightly on the strands. Even after all the dye jobs his hair was still soft beneath the pads of your fingers, the roots ultrasensitive to any foreign touches.

You weren’t sure you’d go so far as to say he had a hair pulling kink, but he definitely enjoyed it.

You peppered light kisses over his face until he was blushing again and trying to hide his face from you, sweater-covered fingers trying to slide between your lips and his cheeks. He was so easily embarrassed that it made your every move fun, no matter how small.

“You’re supposed to move, daddy.” He lurched forward at the sudden squeeze you gave to his rapidly hardening dick, an action that was supposed to be a punishment but instead elicited a high, sweet note from his throat. He naturally had a deeper voice, with hints of roughness at times, but all of his sex noises were reminiscent to his singing voice – high pitched and sweet.

He panted, pulling away from where he’d collapsed forward against you, gaze hazy. His expression was clearly commanding you to do it again – it only sharpened into a glare when you removed your hand all together. You helping him along with your hand had not been part of the plan – it had merely been an incentive to remind him what he was really supposed to be doing.

“ _Move_ , daddy.” You ordered, watching the way his handsome and angular features twisted into the beginnings of a growl. You loved how he tried to fight back, how he tried to show you how unhappy he was with whatever you told him to do. It never worked. You knew that in no time all of his fighting spirit would drain away.

Despite the way he glared at you, he  _did_  start finally moving his hips again, the tiniest of gasps leaving his mouth at the sudden increase of stimulation. With your kiss, hair pulling, and added stimulus with your hand he’d gotten harder, and every move he made against your leg was suddenly feeling a lot better and a lot less pointless.

The way he bit his bottom lip hard caused your stomach to flip pleasantly – he looked like a work of art, face set in concentration as he tried to puzzle out why something so odd as rubbing against your thigh could feel so good. His dark eyes were locked unseeingly on the floor past your shoulder, breath gasping out between his lips every now and then if he hit a certain angle that brushed against the right set of nerves.

You could visibly see the fight draining out of him – his expression had softened into something a little more forgiving than before, his sweater-clad hands coming to rest on your shoulders for extra balance, his hip movements having become stronger and less jerky once he settled into a rhythm.

The final confirmation came when he didn’t snap at you for reaching in to readjust his bulging hard-on, brown eyes watching you in the eye calmly instead of harshly. The amount of trust he had in you warmed your heart – and good god did he ever have a good reason to. The way you’d adjusted him caused the sensitive head of his dick to drag along your thigh with every small move he made, and the stimulus was so heightened from before that he let out a moan from deep within his chest, startling him and causing his blush to re-alight on his cheeks.

“Is daddy going to be vocal for me? Going to tell me  _just_  how I make him feel?” Your words weren’t met with the glare from before – instead a warm hand was pressed around your neck, tight but not tight enough to cause any uncomfortable lack of air. It was just a small reminder that no matter what happened,  _he_  was in control of you.

Hilarious.

Your hands gripped his hips tightly – he winced ever so slightly, but ultimately said nothing – forcibly dragging him up your thigh. It was a challenge for sure, but the way Jihoon’s pretty lips parted as his mouth dropped open in a silent groan, and the way he squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back far enough to stretch out his neck definitely made you forget any of the aches in your arms or leg. He was so gorgeous.

So gorgeous that you couldn’t resist your straying hand that slid down to press and rub firmly over his covered package, loving the way he forgot all about “choking” you and instead laced his arms behind your neck, rolling his hips to try and get the most friction possible. The fabric felt damp under your fingertips, and you weren’t at all surprised to see that he had leaked enough pre-come to make a sizeable dark spot on the fabric.

Watching him move was a privilege all on its own – he put just as much dedication into it as he did with any of the Seventeen performances, just this time his expression was twisted into one of absolute pleasure, and the sounds he was making were high and sweet but definitely not those of a song. (Maybe a song of the bedroom, if you were feeling clichéd enough to call it that.)

That didn’t mean Jihoon was incapable of making  _deep_  sounds either, though. Especially when he got closer to orgasm, like he was now. He’d fallen forward against your chest, clutching on to your shoulders with a death grip, rutting up against your upper thigh with everything he had, head resting on your shoulder as his mouth hung open and freely let out any grunt or groan he made.

And he made a lot. His mouth was right by your ear, and you could hear any sharp intake of breath, any of the whimpery moans he made when he got  _just_  too much stimulation, any deep and guttural groan when he moved in just the right way that made his toes curl in his sneakers. He was completely shameless in the way he moved, chasing his orgasm with a single-goal mindset that had him not trying to restrain any of the noises he made at all.

Not that you wanted him to. Your Jihoon made some of the prettiest sounds in the world.

“Are you close, daddy? Are you going to show me how much you can come?” He choked at the sound of your words, leaning back far enough that you could see his face. He’d squeezed his eyes shut again, letting out small “ah-n..!”’s in the form of moans and gasped grunts, fingers squeezing your shoulders to keep himself from rubbing his dick to help throw him over the edge.

“Bet – I bet you want this inside of you.” He managed out, eyes slipping open in the very slightest, voice tense and laced with desire. “Bet you want daddy to bend you over and fill you up, huh?” The longer he talked the more firm his voice got, but you could see through it – he was so close, and trying to gain back the upper-hand of having dominance over you. (And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t affect you.)

“Daddy –“ Whatever you were going to say was completely lost on Jihoon, his mouth dropping wide open as his hips stuttered forward, a deep and melodic groan being torn from his chest as his body convulsed and fell against you. Your hands came up to hold him comfortingly as he rode out his orgasm against your leg, his boxers gaining a glistening shine on them as a few drops leaked through. He was minutely shaking against you, high pitched gasps the only form of communication he could make when you reached one hand between the two of you to rub lightly on the head of his dick through the fabric.

You were sure he was much too hot beneath that oversized sweater of his, but he certainly didn’t seem to mind in the least – he cared more about stopping your hand that was sending him into painful shudders and capturing your lips between his, putting all of his love and orgasmic euphoria into the one action.

“See, daddy?” You murmured after the kiss, voice having switched to a sultrier version of it without you even noticing – but he definitely did. His attention was on your face in seconds. “Didn’t it feel good?” His fingers had laced together with yours at some point, a cute habit Jihoon had fallen in to after every orgasm he had – it was almost like an affirmation he gave to show you that everything was okay afterwards.

“And it doesn’t hurt, baby girl?” He asked, bouncing experimentally on your leg and smirking at the way you winced. You knew that he had just tacked that on at the end to show that his submissive state had completely ended – you couldn’t say you minded, though.

“Does Daddy have the stamina to fulfill any of his bets?” You met his question with a question, body tingling in excitement with the way his eyes hardened again instantly, fingers tightening around yours as he slid off your leg, firm grip tugging you to your feet. (You almost giggled at the way he grimaced at how his boxers were wet against him.)

“Get up and bend over then. I’m not just going to leave you needing release too.” His voice had dropped to a huskier register, and his gaze was suddenly predatory and dark. “And I don’t make bets I can’t follow through on.”


	27. Schoolboy Crush [Seokmin/Reader]{NSFW High School AU}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Hi! I'd like to request a DK smut at school, thank you!"_  
>  **Warnings:** Underage sex {both the reader and DK are in high school}, underage drinking+of-age drinking, smoking, mentioned drug usage, daddy kink, very much implied Jun/Minghao, Jeonghan/S.Coups, DK/Hoshi, and Mingyu/Wonwoo (I know the DK/Hoshi one makes no sense, given this is a DK smut, but it will. Promise. And no, this isn’t a threesome fic.)  
>  **Written 09/30/16**

In retrospect, he probably shouldn’t have even come to the party, no matter what Wonwoo had threatened. He hadn’t done anything productive all night, other than successfully dodge any drug offered his way and drink just enough alcohol to get him questioning his inhibitions but not enough to get him staggering across the room. He’d spotted you the moment he’d walked in, and that had been the instant he’d started drinking. Just the sight of you made him dizzy – he might as well have a  _valid_  reason to be so in the first place.

The house was interspersed with people in their school uniforms and people wearing casual clothes – he himself was wearing the undershirt and slacks of their uniform. There wasn’t really any rhyme or reason to who wore what, and he’d simply chosen that so he didn’t have to think too hard about what clothes to wear to the party – you’d been way too on his thoughts for anything like that.

You were wearing the skirt and stockings of the uniform, with your blouse unbuttoned enough that you would have been dress-coded had you been at school, showing off enough of your cleavage that Seokmin was practically drooling. If that hadn’t been bad enough, you’d bent over to pick up something someone had dropped, and the sight of your lacy underwear had his dick jumping to attention in his pants.

He already knew he couldn’t go deal with it in the bathroom – there were rumors that Jun was fucking Minghao in there, and by the sounds he could hear Seokmin knew they were probably right. (When Seungcheol had been told this he’d merely shrugged and offered up an “I think it’s actually the other way around.”)

The party wasn’t even half-way through and Seokmin already had a boner he couldn’t hide – perfect. He was cursing the discussion that had led up to this, cursing Wonwoo for this threat, and ultimately cursing you for ruining his life by just  _being alive._

—

“So you’re gonna come, right?” Soonyoung had questioned, leaning against the school’s outer gate, one leg propped up behind him. It was the whole reason Seokmin was in this situation. He’d been talking about Seungcheol’s beginning of the school-year party, and the whole reason Seokmin hadn’t wanted to come in the first place was because he knew you’d be there, wearing something that he’d probably end up jacking off to later. Technically, Seungcheol didn’t even have a good reason to throw the party anymore – he’d graduated the year before and was currently attending college on some sports scholarship Seokmin hadn’t really ever learned the name of. No one really cared or questioned it though – the fact that he was graduated just meant there’d be better alcohol and better drugs. Honestly, it was a wonder the police had never been called – Seungcheol just managed to run everything so smoothly that any fights or fuck-ups were handled and dealt with before the police were phoned.

“Of course he’s not.” Wonwoo muttered, deep voice attracting the attention of a few students who were just exiting through the gate. “He won’t go anywhere where (Y/n) and alcohol are together. He’s too afraid of doing something stupid, like finally going up and talking to her.” He’d taken another drag from the cigarette he had loosely positioned between his fingers, yanking Mingyu closer to his side by the hand he had in the younger’s back pocket when some of the new Freshmen stared at him a bit too long. There were always those every year who thought they had a shot with Mingyu, and every year Wonwoo had no problem showing them just how wrong they were.

Wonwoo was that stereotypical “emo” bad boy – he wore all black, smoked, wore eyeliner, sold drugs, etcetera etcetera, and of course for some reason girls flocked to him just because of that. The fact that he and Mingyu were dating confused the hell out of everyone, because the younger never really did anything worse than drinking, and he had the ability to make any girl’s panties drop just at a look. (Mingyu swore to this day that at home Wonwoo wore sweaters and glasses and read and was essentially a gigantic fluffball – no one believed him.)

“Because unlike  _you_  I don’t ask someone out by cornering them in the bathroom and trying to sell drugs to them.” Seokmin hissed, arms crossed over his chest – Mingyu just laughed at the completely accurate reference.

“I could just talk to her for you, you know.” Mingyu never wasted a chance to remind his friend of how close he was to the girl – Seokmin cursed him for it every day.

“You’d ruin any chance I’d have with her.” He muttered – honestly, his friends were completely useless in this area. Wonwoo would just scare the shit out of you, Hoshi’d probably end up flirting with you instead, and Mingyu – well, he just couldn’t trust Mingyu to tell you  _good_  things about him.

“Why do you make things like this so  _complicated_ , Dokyummie?” Hoshi whined, throwing his arm around the younger’s shoulders. “You’re a Junior, she’s a Junior – just go up and talk to her, ask her out!”

“It’s complicated because I hang out with  _you guys_! She’s going to think I’m like  _you_  –“

“No one thinks that.” Wonwoo interjected. “They just think you get high with Hosh.”

And that was the problem – you were one of those students that got high grades effortlessly and never touched drugs. It was amazing you went to parties at all – you were an oddity, like that Joshua kid who had graduated the year before. Seokmin had only gotten high a couple times as a Sophmore, back when he still wanted to be cool like his hyung’s, but the novelty had quickly worn off, and despite all that, he knew Mingyu would be sure to include his getting high somewhere in his conversation with you.

“But I  _don’t_! Not anymore, at least.”

“Then maybe you should!” Hoshi interjected eagerly. “You’d be a lot less high-strung, you know. And maybe you’d actually be able to  _talk_  to her!”

“Guys, I’m serious – it’s not like I can’t talk to her because I’m  _shy_.” Seokmin muttered, shrugging off his school uniform jacket and slinging it over one shoulder – he could see some girl staring at him from across the street, but the girl wasn’t  _you_  and so he didn’t give them a second glance. “I can talk to anyone.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Wonwoo monotoned, flicking his cigarette to the ground – Mingyu ground it out with the toe of his shoe dutifully, like a model boyfriend.

“Do you guys not remember Freshman year, when I had her as a Chemistry partner and almost ended up kissing her after staring at her for an hour? The only thing that saved me was Jun setting my arm on fire!”

“I still don’t think that was an accident.”

“It wasn’t!” Mingyu said, confirming Hoshi’s comment. “He just wanted to get the attention of that cute guy.”

“Which one?”

“ _Guys_!” Seokmin himself didn’t have the best attention span in the world, but when Hoshi and Mingyu came together it was virtually impossible to keep them on track. Thank god for Wonwoo.

“So your problem is you can’t keep your dick in your pants around her.”

Never mind, fuck Wonwoo.

“I don’t know why I thought I could trust you guys to help me.” He muttered angrily. Wonwoo nodded along with him, agreeing with a “me either”, but Mingyu was already shaking his head, talking over his boyfriend.

“No, no, we can do this!”

“Why don’t you just come to the party? If you chicken out, then, well.. Seungcheol’s house is huge. You can just go to a different room, or something.” Hoshi offered. “You know – just get drunk, see how the night goes.”

“If you need to get drunk to grow a pair and ask her, then do it. The sooner you ask her out, or kiss her, or fuck her, the sooner you stop complaining to us about it.” Wonwoo was nothing if it not blunt, and Seokmin couldn’t deny the way his stomach flipped in his chest at the mere mentioning of fucking you.

“I don’t just want to fuck her.” He mumbled weakly. “I legitimately care about her, and want her to be my girlfriend.”

“How is that possible?” Wonwoo asked, scoffing. “You’ve barely interacted with her, and you’re acting like you love her or some shit.” Mingyu lightly batted at his shoulder for that comment.

“Oh, drop it Wonu.” Mingyu “scolded” affectionately. “Seokminnie’s complicated. If he says he loves her, then I bet he does.”

Deciding not to point out that he’d never said he  _loved_  her – that’d just start another string of comments, and then he’d never be able to leave – Seokmin began to walk away from the group.

“Seokmin - you wanna come over and  _relax_  until the party tonight?” Hoshi offered, grin still present on his face. Seokmin wasn’t sure if “relax” meant getting high or having sex, but he wasn’t in the mood for either. (He and Hoshi had been fucking on and off for years – though it was never anything serious. In fact, it had started out more as a “I’ve never had sex” “Me either”

kind of thing, though they hadn’t done anything in the past year.)

“Nah – I wanna think about all the “advice” you guys gave me.” He called back sarcastically – Wonwoo rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed.

“If I find you towards the end of the party and you haven’t made a move yet, I’m fucking asking her out for you myself.” Wonwoo threatened – Seokmin merely flipped him off in return. After that he’d gone home, showered, and ended up masturbating, hoping to all gods out there that that would keep him from getting a “problem” when talking to you later.

—

As it was, he hadn’t even talked to you yet and he was already having to stand with one hand in his pocket to conceal it.

Fucking perfect.

He could see you from his spot in the room – you were in a little circle with Joshua and Jihoon, deep in conversation with the two. Joshua was a lot like you, actually – he was that pure, innocent Christian, the teacher’s pet who got perfect scores and excelled at everything, and then outside of school drank and cursed and shocked everyone who didn’t know any better. He wore the disguise of “church boy” well. Jihoon wasn’t as similar to the two of you, but at school you and he were nearly inseparable. He studied hard, and he worked hard, and he basically gave everything he did 110%, which of course included cursing and drinking and partying. He was still wearing the tie from his uniform loosely around his neck, and Seokmin just knew there were about ten other people watching him hungrily. He may be tiny and bitter, but he was a definite panty-dropper.

Seokmin wondered – and not for the first time – if you liked Jihoon at all. The thought pissed him off, but if it was true he couldn’t do anything about it – hell, he couldn’t even look at you without getting aroused, like some horny kid. Wonwoo had been right.

“You could go and talk to her.”

He’d startled at the voice, though he knew who it was without even looking. No one else had the same soft and commanding voice Jeonghan did, and Seokmin had met him a time or two through Hoshi. He wasn’t surprised when he turned to see him perched on one of Seungcheol’s knees like the fucking Prince everyone knew he was. Even before he’d graduated he’d been the school’s undeniable Prince.

“You know, the girl you’ve been staring at? The one that gave you your little “problem”? You could go talk to her.”

Seokmin wasn’t sure what he found more absurd – the fact that popular guy Jeonghan was offering him advice, or the fact that his boner was so obvious that Jeonghan had noticed at a glance. (The latter was more mortifying than absurd, to be honest.)

“I can’t –“

“She’s a nice girl.” Jeonghan interrupted. Seungcheol didn’t seem to be paying any attention to Jeonghan, having a conversation with someone on the other end of the couch – though Seokmin noticed his hand place possessively on his waist. “But that doesn’t mean she’s  _nice_. Go talk to her.”

Seokmin wondered if it’d be appropriate to ask if he was high – probably not.

“Just go talk to her~” He repeated, voice half coo and half a command – and for some reason Seokmin found himself more inclined to listen to that than any of Wonwoo’s threats earlier. No wonder he’d been the Prince.

Arguing with himself every painful step of the way, he made it over to your little circle of friends – Jihoon glanced at him once and scoffed, disappearing into the crowd. The two of them didn’t exactly get along. It was darker over here, and he just hoped you couldn’t see whatever it was that Jeonghan had seen.

“Seokmin, right?” You questioned instantly, letting Joshua take your cup of alcohol and disappear into the crowd after Jihoon. “We’ve had a few classes together.”

“Y-yeah..” His stuttered out response barely left his throat, and it was easily drowned out by the music playing – you gazed at him inquisitively, before gently tugging on his elbow and leading him into the brighter, but admittedly quieter kitchen.

“Sorry. I thought it’d be easier to talk in here.”

His skin was pleasantly buzzing from the combination of alcohol and your brief touch to his arm, so he merely nodded stupidly in reply. What had he said before? That he wasn’t shy? Bullshit, he couldn’t even talk to you.

Then again, maybe a shy person wouldn’t be thinking about all the best ways to fuck you into that counter either.

There were a couple people in the kitchen along with the two of you, but not many – Seungcheol didn’t like people taking his food, so he mostly kept the alcohol and drugs and anything else not off-limits in the main room.

“You must be a ladies man, huh?” You asked off-handedly, gaze on some drunken couple making out in the corner of the kitchen.

“H-huh?” Did that mean you found him attractive? Curse you and how coy you were acting – it was throwing him for a loop and he had absolutely no idea how to act. “I wouldn’t say that..?” He wasn’t blind - he saw the way girls looked at him - but admitting that probably wasn’t the right move.

You were in all actuality quite different from the persona you wore at school – much bolder and to the point. It was eerily similar to Joshua, though he banished that quickly from his mind. He didn’t need to link you to the older boy.

“I didn’t really mean it that way.” You waved your hand, and his gaze was drawn to chipped black nail polish, already imagining how those fingers would look fisted around his cock. “I meant that you seem to be fighting some sort of.. problem. So I assumed you liked ladies.”

Seokmin froze – his entire world froze. If he were Hoshi he could have effortlessly played it off, but he wasn’t. He was Seokmin, and this pretty girl just pointed out the fact that he was sporting a boner at a party, and if he’d had some clever retort to help hide his flushing face then the alcohol had effectively banished any of them from his mind.

“Why – why are you looking down there?!” Smooth. He cursed himself – what he’d really wanted to say was something suave to embarrass you back.

“That friend of yours – the scary one, with the eyeliner and boyfriend permanently stuck to his side? – he told me about it.”

Wonwoo, that dick. Who the hell was he to go and tell you about that? And why were you acting so flippantly about it?

“He said it might be my fault? But I was thinking – maybe it’s just that you like ladies, and this party  _is_  full of them.” It was clear that you didn’t believe any of the latter.

_Wonwoo_. Seokmin was going to kill him later, was going to choke him out right in front of that boyfriend of his he tried to act tough for.

“He must have been joking!” He forced out a laugh, wondering if it sounded as tinny and fake to you as it did to him. “I mean, I barely know you –“ But he’d like to know you. The initial attraction he’d felt since seeing you that first day had never faded away, and this new side of you that he’d never seen before had him intrigued and thinking dirty things. (He’d always thought dirty things about you, though.)

Underneath all of that he really wanted to be able to hold your hand and call you his.

The kitchen had quickly turned from a quiet place to a noisy congregation of teenagers as more and more people trickled in, and you grabbed his wrist in a weirdly gentle grip, tugging him out of the room.

“Seungcheol’s gonna end up coming in there to scare everyone out.” You explained unhelpfully – he still didn’t know  _where_  you were leading him, but so long as you were touching him he figured he didn’t really mind. Besides, your reaction to this entire bizarre situation was taking up most of his thoughts.

He noticed Minghao and Jun in the crowd the instant he realized you were tugging him into the same bathroom they’d been in earlier – the younger had a hand on the older’s throat, and the two were locked in what Seokmin thought was the most brutal make-out session he’d ever seen – and as gross as it was to be in a room where he was pretty sure they’d just finished fucking in, he couldn’t deny the electric shock that shot through him when you reached past him to press the lock on the door.

And then suddenly you were against him, mouth on his, hands on his biceps, tasting of some sort of sweet, fruity alcohol that he ordinarily would never have liked the taste of. Seokmin was once again clueless – he had no idea what was happening, couldn’t think of anything other than the feel of your lips on his and the taste of your mouth when you let his tongue in. His hands had settled on your waist, hot and gentlemanly and ultimately at odds with the way he was expertly taking your breath away with his mouth.

As much as he just wanted to lose himself in the heady feelings and sensations you were giving him, he wasn’t the type of guy to easily ignore the fact that you had absolutely no reason for doing this.

“Why..?” His voice was breathy and thin, and he kept constantly going back in for small nips and pecks at your lips that kept you from responding right away. It was probably the cutest and most amusing mix of teenage adoration and pure sexual arousal you’d ever seen in a man.

“That friend of yours said I caused this “ _problem_ ”, so I was just going to be a good girl and take responsibility.” It was more of that dirty, naughty behavior he’d never expect from you, and he bit back the involuntary moan that was in response purely to your words.

“I wouldn’t call you a  _good_  girl.” He nearly growled out – your eyes widened at the suddenly dominant tone, entire body flushing pleasantly as a darker look settled on his face. He was starting to understand what Jeonghan had meant earlier.

But suddenly it was gone, and he was glancing around the bathroom – it wasn’t anything like any of his fantasies with you had been.

“I – I think they fucked in here, you know..”

“Mn.. Looks clean enough to me.” You never moved your eyes from his face, hands slowly sliding down his biceps to his forearms – he was deceptively muscled underneath that white button down shirt, and you could feel your excitement grow at the thought of him using those arms to pin you up against the wall.

You’d always taken notice of Seokmin – of the way he stared at you a moment too long for it to be casual, at the way his gaze would linger on your lips instead of your face. You’d just never thought of how you yourself felt about him. He was definitely cute, and perfect boyfriend material, not to mention those lips or his  _arms_. When his friend had come up to you earlier you’d taken time to plan out what you wanted to do in your head.

So far, it was going well – in fact, it was shaping up to be better than you’d expected. Seokmin was sweet, and kind, and loved to laugh, so this dominant streak in him that you’d found was entirely unexpected. And you wanted more of it.

“So? Are you going to let me be a  _good girl_  and –“

Suddenly you were slammed against the door, back stinging pleasantly, Seokmin’s eyes flashing dangerously at you in a way that made your knees weak. He’d flipped your positions effortlessly, forearm pinned against your upper chest.

“ _Good_  girls don’t cause problems in the first place, you know.”

Seokmin had gone from a stuttering high school student to this pure embodiment of sex in .4 seconds, and meeting his dark gaze made you dizzy.

“I didn’t  _mean_  to cause the problem.” You continued to meet his gaze fearlessly, faces inches apart. His free hand had inched up into your hair, tugging ever so gently on the strands, a soft reminder that he was listening and judging.

There was a moment of tense silence, the sexual tension thick enough it was almost choking you, his breath ghosting out over your lips – and then he was kissing you harshly, hand in your hair tightening and yanking your head to the side, teeth nipping at your bottom lip and your tongue whenever you tried to take control of the kiss. He pulled you out of the kiss by your hair, forcing you down on your knees

“You gonna be a good girl and do what I say?” Beneath all the roughness and sexual prowess you could see he was unsure – unsure about what he was doing, about whether or not you actually wanted this. No matter how dominant he acted, you knew he was still the same kind, sweet, and caring guy underneath it all that he always was.

“I’ll be a good girl, daddy.” It was a gamble on your part, but also a form of consent – you noticed his face clear up at that, the hand in your hair loosening to pet along the strands softly.

“Good – good.” Your consent seemed to be all he needed, a few seconds passing as he gathered his confidence again. “Then get to it. Be a good little girl and suck it.”

He wasted no time in unzipping the school slacks and drawing out his dick – it was longer than you expected, and not un-pretty. (And let’s be honest, there was definitely a difference between attractive and unattractive dicks.)

He was harder than you’d expected, a tiny little bead of pre-come already on the tip – you weren’t allowed to stare and appreciate it any longer, though, the hand that had been softly petting your hair suddenly tight on the strands again, forcing you closer to it.

“ _Suck_ , I said.” His voice had dropped an octave, and you opened your mouth without preamble to take the head of his cock into your mouth. It didn’t particularly taste like anything – you could smell the faint hints of a cologne he must have put on that morning for classes, and an undercurrent of what just had to be his own natural scent.

He was bracing himself with one hand on the wall, the other cupping the back of your head – he wasn’t forcing you forward yet, apparently content with the small licks and sucks you were giving the head of his dick. He’d let out a soft whimper the moment you’d made contact, and though it should have ruined his dominant act it only made you more excited.

You slid your head down farther, listening to the deep groan that reverberated through his chest – your lace underwear was slowly becoming a ruined mess, the fabric becoming wetter and wetter against your skin.

“Yeah, that’s it – your pretty little mouth was just made for my cock, huh?” You’d never taken Seokmin as one who could pull off dirty talk, but god had you been wrong. “Come on, you can do better than that – ngh – just like that.”

His words bordered on degrading, but insulting someone completely like that just didn’t seem to be in his personality, sex persona or not. His hand had been steadily pressing more and more on your head, but it suddenly pulled you back, forcing you off his dick completely. You weren’t sure which of you made the louder noise at the loss of contact.

Seokmin’s cheeks were flushed, a pretty red resting high up on his cheekbones as he stared down at you, one hand fisted almost too tightly in your hair.

“You’re too good at that, baby.”

“I didn’t get to do it long..” You pouted up at him, barely resisting in the least when he tugged you to your feet.

“Ahh.. It’s a little embarrassing, but I’m not sure I could have dealt with much more of that.” He grinned sheepishly, dominant act again disappearing in a matter of moments. His gaze roved over your face anxiously, dropping down to your shoulders again in embarrassment. “You’re so  beautiful.” He faltered, watching as your fingers unbuttoned your school blouse to just below your bra. “I’ve always thought that, you know?” He should have felt awkward, talking so casually about his crush on you with his dick out – but he didn’t. There was something about you that calmed his nerves. (But that was all you calmed.)

“Guys aren’t as smooth as they think they are. I’ve noticed you watching me since the first day.” You sneaked a peek at his shocked expression, fingers unzipping your skirt slowly. He followed your fingers hungrily with his eyes. “I –“

“Are you going to make me wait much longer, baby?” He spoke quickly, one hand stroking down his cock. “You’re saying things I could only dream of – but you chose a shitty time to do it. I can’t  _think_  about anything you’re telling me right now, especially after –“

“Then  _do_  something about it.” The words were scarcely out of your mouth before he was grabbing your elbows, spinning to hoist you up onto the edge of the sink, mouth latching on to your collarbone hungrily. Your skirt was hanging off one ankle, Seokmin’s large hand covering one of your clothed breasts, his other hand hooking beneath your underwear and dragging it down to your thighs.

He hesitated here, dark eyes blown wide with lust, lips moist from where he’d been sucking a dark mark into your skin a few seconds earlier.

“I want to taste you.” It was a bold confession, but you were in the bathroom at a party, and there wasn’t time for much of anything else.

“Later.” You brought your hands up to frame his face, watching the way his eyes widened. “Later.” It was a promise and an assurance that this was not a one-time thing – there would be more encounters like this for sure.

“Later?” He repeated, voice relatively shaky, fingers tight on your elbows. The thought of more situations like this, maybe having you on his bed instead of in someone else’s bathroom, was almost too much for him to even dream of. This seemed like a fantasy straight of his wettest dream.

“We’re on a timeframe baby – we can’t be gone from the party for too long.” You words seemed to snap him out of whatever daydream he was in, fingers coming down to rub along your slick outer walls – you both moaned at the feeling, albeit yours was much louder and higher pitched.

The next part was just a blur of moans and feelings – there’d been a brief lull where he’d struggled to put on a condom, and you’d laughed at him - Seokmin’s dick stretching you out in all the best ways as he held still like the fucking gentleman he was, letting you get accommodated to his girth as he whispered “you’re such a good little girl for daddy” over and over in your ear before he proceeded to fuck you into Seungcheol’s bathroom mirror. You weren’t sure you’d ever felt as good as you did with him inside you, smooth voice turning into deep grunts and groans as your walls squeezed tighter and tighter around him.

You honestly weren’t sure which of you orgasmed first, but you had never felt such ecstasy or pleasure with another man before, and definitely never with a toy or your fingers. His arms had locked around you, holding you tightly against him, and it made you feel warm and protected and  _loved_. It was dizzying to think about in the moment.

Seokmin was breathing harshly behind you, but his hands were steady when he gently set you down and withdrew his dick from you, shuddering slightly as he did so. There was a comfortable silence that surrounded you, the distant pounding of music from the party a constant background noise as the two of you cleaned yourselves up.

“S-so – what does this mean..?” He was the first to break the silence, dominant act completely gone in the face of your possible rejection. It was almost endearing.

“We just had sex in the bathroom at a party, and we’re both a bit drunk.” You started, turning to face him after re-zipping your skirt. He was biting his lip, watching you carefully. “It was probably the best first date I’ve ever had.”

“So – there’s gonna be more?” He looked like he was barely breathing, but at your nod he instantly scooped you up in his arms, laughing in relief. He felt lighter than he had in a long time.

A sudden pounding on the bathroom door startled you both, and you felt him chuckle sheepishly through your chest as he opened the door and apologized to the rather annoyed looking man on the other side, gently sweeping you back out into the party, one arm around your waist warmly. You felt safe, being held by him like this, and the prospect of learning more about him and getting closer was something that filled you with excitement.

Seokmin, meanwhile, felt like he had come out on top of the world. You were on his arm, looking genuinely happy with the set-up, and your smile filled him with such a warmth that he knew would never and could never be rivaled. In fact, he was  _almost_  contemplating thanking Wonwoo for ever telling you about his crush.

_Almost._  Seeing the older boy across the room, smirking at the two of you and whispering something no doubt dirty about the two of you to Mingyu made Seokmin abandon any idea of thanking him. He was just a jerk.


	28. Request [Sub!Minghao/Reader]{NSFW Drabble}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"YO IM YELLING. I LOVE THIS BLOG AND I LOVE ALL THE SUB!FICS. if you're still taking requests - could i request a sub!minghao with a noona kink? maybe something public? sorry if it's too specific!! i just really like the idea of minghao begging for his noona"_  
>  **Warnings:** Pantyboy, public masturbation sort of but not really at all, noona kink  
>  **Written on 03/05/17**

“Please..” Minghao’s distinctive voice filters up to you, face twisted with an expression you never see outside of the bedroom. It’s a pleading, needy expression, one that promises all power and dominance to you.

“Please what, Minghao. Huh? I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what it is you want.” Your voice is cool and smooth, and it flows over him almost like a tangible force, making him shudder as he tips his head back farther and presents his flawless neck to you. It takes a considerable amount of willpower not to suck a mark into it, but you prevail in the end.

“Please.. please just touch me – touch me noona, I need your hands around my cock, I need it so bad –“ His words are stinted and awkward as he sifts through them and tries to come up with the right words in a language not native to him, voice shaking as he forces himself to keep moderately quiet – his bandmates are only a room away, afterall.

“Touch you, huh?” You ask slowly, watching the way he daringly makes eye contact with you as you grasp the waistbands of his pants and tug them down, watching the way he arches his back to help lift his lower body off the bed so you had an easier time – you don’t bother with them once they get to his knees, knowing it’ll help keep him from moving around so much.

His dick is covered with a thin layer of lace, which is a surprise to you – you hadn’t seen this particular pair of underwear before, though you had to admit that the pale red suited him. What’s not a surprise is how hard he is. You know he’d been worked up all day.

“Who bought this for you?” It’s a threat phrased as a question, and you reached down to wrap your fingers around his lace covered cock, pumping it harshly once – his head jerks back at the rough stimulus, biting his bottom lip harshly to keep from making any noise.

“It’s –“ He’s shaking minutely, and mutters something in Chinese that you don’t understand completely but sounds suspiciously like a curse – your hand is slick with the pre-come he’s been steadily leaking through the lace, but you let go so he can form a coherent sentence. “I bought it, noona..”

“Oh? And why would you do that?” You reach up with your clean hand to stroke across his cheek, and he leans into it easily, crimson bangs falling into his eyes and obscuring his vision. You brush them away as an afterthought.

“For you. Don’t I look good?” You nod, getting ready to speak, but he cuts you off instantly. “Please touch me then, noona. I’m a good boy – and a pretty boy. Noona always says I’m pretty. So please –“

You cut him off by re-gripping his cock, reveling in the throaty moan he gives in appreciation. His begging fades off into a million tiny gasps and choked off groans, fingers curling into the bedsheets as he tugs on them unforgivingly – he wasn’t allowed to touch, and he wasn’t allowed to be loud either, so he was doing his best for his noona.

And he was doing pretty damn good, too.

“Please, noona, please please please –“ He wasn’t even sure what he was begging for anymore, but when you slipped your hand past the flimsy waistband of the panties and wrapped your hand directly around his leaking cock, he knew that he  _should_  have been begging for skin to skin contact from the get-go.

A high-pitched moan escapes through his bee-stung lips by accident – you can tell he’s startled by it and nervous of punishment, but your hand doesn’t stop moving and he squeezes his eyes shut tightly, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. It’s rare for you to not punish him when he does something against one of your rules, so he soaks up this precious moment, mind floating through the clouds as his pleasure mounts higher and higher.

“Are you close, Minghao?” It’s a question you already know the answer to – his hips are bucking erratically into your hand, and you can see all of his muscles are clenched. He nods rapidly anyway, eyes flying open to gaze upon his beautiful noona.

“Yes – yes noona, I’m close, I’m so  _so_  close, please –“ His pleas cross over into Chinese as he gets closer to his release, and though you don’t understand him you can clearly understand the overall meaning of the words.

“It’s okay, Minghao. You can come for noona.” He whimpers softly at your words, choking back any other sounds as his body goes taught and he paints your hand white, eyes snapping shut again in the face of his orgasm. It drips down your hand, and you know for sure the panties are ruined, but they’ve clearly served their purpose. You don’t think he’ll mind.

There’s a long pause afterwards, where you stroke your fingers through his red hair and he breathes heavily, coming down from his euphoric high in your arms, safe and warm and feeling utterly protected. You drop a kiss onto his temple, and the two of you are just thinking you got away with it before a harsh pounding on the adjacent wall startles the both of you.

“Next time send a group text or something so I can fucking be anywhere else but here!”

Jihoon was extremely not amused.


	29. Let Me Appreciate You [Sub?Chan/Reader]{NSFW Drabble}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"OMG IDK HOW LONG YOUR ASK BOX HAS BEEN OPEN BUT WAHEY ITS OPEN! um so could i request something for dino? a scenario with something to do with his thighs because girl have you seen his thighs??? his butt is great too and i kinda want something like worshipping his body thing bc dino needs to be appreciated a lot hehe. THANK YOU SO MUCH IN ADVANCE! <3 <3 <3"_  
>  **Warnings:** Blowjob, body worship, sort of inexperienced Chan [he feels a bit strange getting so much attention focused all on him]  
>  **Written on 06/29/18**

He twitches under you occasionally, a bundle of nerves and anticipation, eyes darting across your face and the ceiling, fingers curling and uncurling into his palms. He’s young, new to this idea, new to the thought of being dominated, not being in charge – he’s nervous but willing, excited to try it out but just as anxious for it.

When you start kissing along his jaw he lets out a soft sigh, frown sliding onto his sharp features when you keep your pace slow and thorough.

“Relax, Channie. Let me love your body.” He snorts at your words but dutifully curls his hands into the sheets, expression smoothing out. It’s weird, to let you take complete control like this, to simply lay back and have things done to  _him_ , words whispered softly against  _his_  skin, compliments layered onto  _him_.

“Wait –“ You freeze instantly at his comment, glancing up warily – he looks frustrated but not unhappy, confused but not uncomfortable. “Shouldn’t I be doing all this to you? Something I – well, not  _should_  be doing I guess, but – uh..”

He trails off awkwardly, gaze drifting away from yours in embarrassment, his rambling getting away from him, showing the extent of his naiveté in bed. Inexperience isn’t a  _bad_  thing, not by a long shot, but he flushes darkly anytime it becomes obvious that he’s not exactly the most experienced person around when it comes to this sort of thing.

“It goes both ways, Chan. Especially when I have a boyfriend as handsome as you~” Your compliment earns rolled eyes and an exasperated smile, and when you press your lips back to one of his pectorals he breaths out softly but doesn’t stop you again.

Your mouth takes a slow path down his body, commenting every now and then on how handsome he looks, how it’s obvious he’s been working out more, how his body has been packing on more muscle recently. By the time you get to his waist he’s flustered and can’t keep his gaze pinned on you, all the compliments wriggling their way past his defenses. He heard compliments all the time as an idol, but it was.. different, coming from you.

You pass over his groin, taking a little bit of pleasure in the way he lets out a frustrated breath at that, settling down by his knees.

“You know you have really nice thighs? Powerful ones.” He gazes at you, eyebrows raised, knowing this was leading into something more, something else – he knows you too well, and you just smile at him before ducking your head to begin marking him.

He’s relatively quiet as you work, sighing sharply through his nose as bruises bloom out darkly across the inside of his thighs, flowering outwards and showing that someone – you – had staked claim. It’s not until you’ve switched legs and are finishing up when you hear the first, almost inaudible moan he gives, breathy and a bit shocked, like it took even him by surprise.

You’re quick to move on then, wrapping your mouth around his cock, reveling in the soft, almost relieved sigh he gives, the way his hips jerk ever so slightly at the sudden stimulation he had apparently been craving. You bob your head along him slowly, fingers dancing across the parts that don’t easily fit into your mouth, wrapping around to pump in time with your motions.

He’s hot and heavy in your mouth, and a sharp suck rips a ragged groan from his chest. Flicking your eyes up you can see him propped up on his elbows, dark eyes intense and heavy on you, hair disheveled and expression beautifully debauched. God, he was fucking gorgeous.

The pre-cum that slowly pools on your tongue is only vaguely salty, and you slide your hands under him, curling into the skin of his admittedly very nice ass. He jerks at that, a bit un-used to your touch there, but doesn’t say anything about it so you take that as a go-ahead, fingers kneading roughly into the smooth skin.

“Oh, fuck..” Chan mumbles in way of warning – he’s relatively quiet in bed so you can heed his warning well, pulling off of him to finish him off by hand, watching with a sort of satisfied fascination as he releases over his stomach, orgasm pulling his face into one of tortured bliss.

“Wow, you’re even more handsome when you –“

“Oh, shut up.” He grumbles, slinging his forearm over his eyes – it just barely covers up the flush you’d seen peeking through, and you smile contentedly and rest your head on his very marked thigh. Relative silence stretches out between the two of you, comfortable and broken only by Chan’s labored breathing slowly evening out.

He sits up suddenly, a wicked grin on his face, and it takes a whole five seconds – where he sweeps his fingers through your hair – before you realize what he’s grinning about.

“You’re so  _beautiful_ , you know that?”

That sneaky little shit was going to turn around and do all the same stuff to you.


	30. Sweet Nightmare [Jeonghan/Reader]{Fluff}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Written 08/02/16**

You were woken by gentle shaking, your bed-mate apparently intent on having you awake.

“(Y/n.)” Jeonghan’s ultra-sleepy voice was like literal honey to your ears, and if you didn’t care about him as much as you did you would have simply let it lull you back to sleep. But this was Jeonghan, and you  _did_  love him, and he rarely woke up randomly in the middle of the night.

You could feel his long hair tickling your neck as he leaned down and kissed your cheek to try and get you to wake, and you sleepily opened your eyes at that, sitting up to face him. You were low-key about to fall asleep sitting up.

“Wh –“

“I had a nightmare.” He let the words hang in the air between you as your sleepy brain tried to figure out what the fuck words were, immediately scooting up between your legs when you opened your arms to him, burying his face in your shoulder.

Jeonghan didn’t  _like_  nightmares – in fact, you knew he hated them, even though he rarely got them. You also knew he didn’t necessarily like talking about any of his bad dreams. His arms were wrapped tightly around you, breath hot on your neck, completely curling his body up against your smaller one. He liked to be the dominant person in your relationship – he was older, and naturally he wanted to take care of his cute girlfriend, but he was also a person who liked to be taken care of sometimes – in short, he could be adorably needy.

“Do you wanna tell me anything about it?” Your voice was rough and sleepy, and you felt him smile against your shoulder at it as your fingers carded soothingly through his hair.

“Nope.”

It was a simple and short answer that completely killed the conversation, and your sleep-addled brain wasn’t up to creating another conversation opener, but that was okay. You were both more than ready to sit there in silence.

His hair wasn’t incredibly soft beneath your fingers – it was just like everyone else’s, maybe a bit softer than most men’s, but still absolutely normal. You loved it. You could feel the tension slowly leaving his body as he relaxed more against you, a soft sigh leaving his lips every now and then. He was always a sucker for having his hair stroked, and while anyone in the world could do it, it always felt better coming from you.

“Hannie.. You’re slipping. Off my shoulder.” He “hmmed” softly in response, not even fighting your hands when you slowly pushed him back and guided his head into your lap, fingers resuming their soft rhythm through his hair. You knew he was dozing off, could see it in the way his face had softened and the way his breath had evened out more, and though you knew you should keep him awake so he could get back into a position where you could sleep too, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

Nightmares really didn’t suit him – bad things in general didn’t suit him. What suited him was this – this blissed out, completely unguarded expression as he slept completely content on your legs, one hand loosely clasping yours as your other hand continued to softly massage his scalp. He was beautiful, the moonlight from the window saturating his skin with the most gorgeous of glows that one could never hope to capture on canvas or in photo.

You loved him. You loved him so much it hurt your heart, made your chest swell and fill, made you sigh involuntarily at the thought of him. He was the literal light in your life, if you were so inclined to sound that cliché – and you were, because he was.

Slipping an arm under your boyfriend’s shoulders, you carefully began to maneuver his head back to the pillow – he woke sleepily, lips stretching into the most content and warm smile you’d ever seen, his arms wrapping you up against his side the moment he was laid down again. A kiss was pressed on your forehead, your cheek, your nose, and eventually your lips, and they were sleepy and small and absolutely wonderful.

“Your nightmare?”

The sleepy, dazed little smile he gave you made you instantly aware that he was going to say something cute and mushy – that’s just how Jeonghan was. His fingers lazily pushed your hair behind your ear, fingertips tracing down your cheek and swiping across your lips, almost like he was trying to map out the contours of your face for fear it would disappear the instant he shut his eyes. You kissed the inside of his hand, and he softly chuckled at how cute you were.

“It’s not a nightmare anymore – it’s a dream, one of the good ones.” His hand cupped your cheek, thumb gently brushing over the skin it could reach. “Because you’re in it.”


	31. Important [Sub!Jihoon/GenderNeutralReader]{NSFW}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Oh god I was a big fan of that Jihoon smut you wrote a while back!! Could I request/suggest a smut (length is up to you) where Jihoon is craving attention? Like, the reader is busy with someone but Jihoon is really horny, so he's all whiney and cute? I'd like the gender of the reader to be unspecified, as well, if possible! And trust me, I will absolutely adore every thing you wrte <3 You're pretty self-critical but you're a very very good writer. I love you okay<3"_  
>  **Warnings:** Blowjob, handjob  
>  **Written 03/16/17**

Jihoon, by nature, was not a very clingy or affectionate person. On a day to day basis he got all the affection he needed just by holding your hand, and anything more usually resulted in blushes and cringes that always amused you to no end and served to only make you do it more.

So why the hell did you choose today of all days to stop that.

He’d understood if you were busy doing something  _important_  – at least, he told himself he would have - but you were just watching that stupid drama Seungcheol had introduced you to and that definitely did not constitute as “important” to him.

What was important to him was the fact that you were sitting comfortably on your floor with your phone propped up on your knees, totally wrapped up in the show and completely oblivious to your horny boyfriend, something you were usually incredibly good at noticing.

Jihoon was usually pretty good at keeping those urges at bay – usually he didn’t have time to deal with it, especially when composing. There was nothing to distract himself with at your apartment though, and even if he had found something he would have been increasingly aware of you in your living room, just sitting there. Not helping him. Looking adorable as you reacted to the plot twists of your show.

Fuck you, cute and innocent and not in the least bit bothered like he was.

“Jagi.” There’s a distinctive whine to his voice that he despises but can’t really do anything about, and you glance up at him as he pads into the carpeted room.

“Hey, look at you, you’re wearing clothes that actually fit.” Your voice is light and teasing, and Jihoon spares a glance down at his attire which consists of a relatively loose zipped up jacket and sweatpants that are definitely not form fitting in any definition of the word. “Well, sort of fit. You’re not drowning in a sweater, at least.”

Your teasing is lost on him as he insistently cuddles up to your side, surprising you with the amount of skinship he was willing to initiate. His fingers try to pry your phone out of your hands, but you swat them away in annoyance.

“Jagi.” His tone is insistent, and when you look over at him he rests his head on your shoulder cutely, pretty pink lips that matched his hair locked in a pout. Things were serious if he was attempting aegyo on you.

“What?” You finally pause the video, turning your full attention on him – you wonder if he realizes the way his eyes light up when you do. Even if he’s stingy with the physical contact, you’ve never once had to wonder if he loved you. Looking at his face was really all you needed to do to know.

“You need to help me.” Jihoon answered, voice still tinged with the edges of a whine. “There’s no point in doing this myself if you’re right here.” You would have been confused on what he was talking about if it weren’t for the way your mind went straight to the gutter – you reached down to make sure anyway, and Jihoon managed the miraculous feat of keeping his face relatively blank as you palmed his boner through his sweatpants.

“Ah. How did that happen?” You asked easily, withdrawing your hand much to your boyfriend’s displeasure. “Were you touching yourself like a naughty boy?”

“No.” The single word had confusing mixes of sincerity and anger, and you glance at his face once before going back to your show.

“Oh. Well, that’s weird, then.” And that was that. He stared at you incredulously – were you seriously just going to ignore him? He wasn’t used to having to vie for your attention – it was almost like begging, and Jihoon did  _not_  beg.

But he also didn’t want to deal with this by himself, especially since you were literally right next to him and usually jumped at this opportunity. Jihoon wasn’t used to you playing coy like this. That was usually his job.

Maybe you’d finally gotten tired of it?

“Jagi~” He tried, nuzzling into your neck – all he got out of that was his own self-cringing and your soft “hmm” of acknowledgement, eyes never leaving your screen.

You were tough.

“Aren’t I more important than that show?” He tried again, fingers reaching for your phone. You intercepted them instantly, your own fingers wrapping around them to hold his hand instead.

“Of course, Jihoonie.” That was your answer, and yet you never looked up.

“(Y/n).” It was a soft mumble dropped from his lips that conveyed his resignation and defeat – you clearly weren’t going to do anything, and sitting here trying to act cute to garner your attention while his dick throbbed semi-painfully every few seconds was just pointless. “Fine. I’ll deal with it myself.”

“No.” You spoke up suddenly before he could even reach for the waistband, patting the carpet in front of him. “Lie down, with your head over there.” He gave you an understandably dubious look, but otherwise didn’t protest and did as you said. At least you were finally paying a little bit of attention to him.

His head was near your feet, dark eyes watching your face carefully – you seemed enraptured in the damn drama again, and he was sort of tempted to kick you.

He probably would have, too, if he didn’t have any common sense at all.

“Are you really so desperate that you’ll just obey me without complaint? Where’s my grumpy Jihoon?” You teased him easily, eyes drifting over to his face – his expression was  _definitely_  grumpy, but the fact that he’d obeyed still proved your point.

“Are you blind?” He snapped, and you chuckled at the poison in his words. You knew he was referring to the very obvious tenting in his sweatpants, but you pretend not to notice.

“Mmmn… no. I can see my drama very clearly, and I can see my boyfriend’s cute face, and how his hands are curling into fists, and the blush he’s going to deny he has –“

“Fine, fine! Shut up! I take it back!” He fussed, moving to sit up and leave because you were  _awful_  why did he even come to you in the first place – you preempted him easily, pressing gently on his chest to push him back down. Unbeknownst to him, he was really predictable when he got like this.

“I’m sorry, Jihoonie – am I being mean?” You asked, tapping the pause button on your drama and setting your phone aside. It’s not like you’d actually been paying attention for the last few minutes anyway. “Was I devoting more attention to that show than to you?”

“ _Yes_.” He doesn’t want to agree, to give in to your teasing, but like always you have a way of getting him to do and say things he’d never do otherwise. This time it’s your hand that’s now started rubbing at his hard-on through his sweats, a taunting promise to something more, something Jihoon had been trying to get you to do from the start.

“Is this what you wanted?” You phrase your question innocently, feigning confusion when he shakes his head angrily. (You know he can easily see through your acting, but that’s not the point.)

“No. Why would I want  _this_  of all things?” He’s prickly and fussing at you, which is absolutely normal and spurs you on, wanting to get him to his breaking point. And judging by how he’d been acting earlier, that shouldn’t be too incredibly hard.

“You’re right – you probably wouldn’t want a tortured orgasm through your pants. You probably want something  _more_.” He bites his lip when you stop palming his erection, clearly holding his breath when your fingers come up to grasp the zipper of his jacket. You drag it down slowly, watching as his skin is revealed inch by inch – you can easily see when his breath stutters out of him in anticipation, his chest fluttering as he tries to keep still.

You don’t unzip it all the way, just unzipping it down to his bellybutton. Your fingers drag lightly across his skin when you move your hand back up and he shivers, gaze switching from your face to your hands as you open his jacket up wider. The metal teeth are chilly against his skin, a delightful contrast with your fingers, and he finds himself wanting more of those touches.

“Is this what you meant?” You ask, lightly drifting your fingers over one of his nipples. He jerks and catches his bottom lip between his teeth, aiming a frosty glare at you. You, of course, grin widely at it. “No? Hmm.. then I’m afraid I don’t know what you want, Jihoonie.”

When you start to scoot away from his body his hand shoots out to grasp your wrist, dark eyes searching your face. You seriously couldn’t be expecting him to  _beg_.

“You  _know_  what I want.” Jihoon mumbles, voice huskier and rougher than normal.

“Hmm – maybe. Do you want my hand down here, then?” You asked, letting your hand catch on the waistband of his pants. He lifts his butt off the ground so you have an easier time pulling them down – he has an insanely nice ass, you think to yourself – not bothering with removing them completely. You’re sure he won’t mind, and indeed he doesn’t make a comment about it at all, hands already hastily shimmying his boxers down just far enough that his hard cock can spring free, the tip shiny and red with arousal. You swipe your thumb over the head of it, smoothing the bead of pre-come along it.

“Is this it? Is this what you wanted, baby?” Your words are soft, and his eyes flutter shut at both the sound and your feather-light strokes to his dick. “If not, you’re going to have to tell me what it is you want.”

Jihoon takes a deep breath, shuddering out an exhale as his eyes snap open. You can see the resolve in his expression – he’s made a decision about something.

“I want your lips wrapped around it, please.” His voice is only slightly shaky, arousal laced through every single syllable. The overwhelming need to have you pleasure him has overruled any shreds of his embarrassment or “dignity”, and when he shakes his pink hair out of his eyes you can see in them his determination at getting what he wants, and you know that if you keep playing your “innocent” game he’s just going to get pissed at you.  _Actually_  pissed.

“Okay Jihoonie.” You relent easily, smoothing your thumb over his lower waist as a shred of relief washes over his expression. He wasn’t good at begging, he didn’t like to beg, and even though his attempt had been a sorry excuse for it you weren’t sure he’d be able to do anything better under these circumstances.

You don’t waste much time after that, bending down to take him into your mouth. The sound he lets out is a cross between a moan and a relieved sigh, and you feel slightly bad for making him wait so long when he was clearly so worked up. His hands curl into fists at his sides, body shifting helplessly under your ministrations – he’s a moderately quiet lover, tiny groans and gasps escaping through his lips despite how he tries to keep quiet.

“Feels -  _amazing_ …” He manages, voice trailing off into a low groan as you hollow your cheeks. You were amazing, your mouth was amazing, everything was amazing.

You can tell he’s already close, especially by the way one of his hands uncurls and gropes around for yours until you lace your fingers with his – you pull off and finish him off with your hand, watching as his body convulses and covers his upper stomach with white, a long and low moan being torn from deep within his chest. You’re not really surprised at how quick it was, considering how horny he’d been prior.

He lies there absolutely wrecked, jacket hanging open and exposing his bare chest covered in a light sheen of sweat and semen, which heaves with every breath he takes through pink lips that hang open, gasping while he comes down from his orgasmic high. You can’t help but smile to yourself at the perfect sight, drama completely forgotten.


	32. Unplanned Fun [Seungkwan/Reader]{NSFW}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** _Grinding_  
>  **Written on 08/02/16**

It’s not like you had planned for this night to go this way – hell, you hadn’t planned anything that had happened so far. You were supposed to be Vernon’s friend, the cool, English speaking one he was hella protective over, the one he watched like a hawk to make sure the members didn’t touch inappropriately in some way. The one that had clicked with his friend Seungkwan immediately – which caused him to completely flip out when Seungkwan had casually put his arm around you one time while telling a joke. (You’d laughed so hard at Vernon’s reaction that Seungkwan had gotten all pouty his joke had been overshadowed.)

Still, Vernon expected Seungkwan out of all of the members to be the one with the lowest chance of trying anything with you, and even though he’d protested at first, the others had finally convinced him to go the movies with them while Seungkwan and you stayed back at the dorm.

It was going to be an innocent hang out, was all. A way for two people to bond over bad movies and funny videos, with Seungkwan throwing in random commentary every now and then that had you giggling and him swelling with pride. (Because he honestly lived off of things like that, off of being in the spotlight and having all the attention on him.)

But it had gotten cold and you had snuggled up to his side, commenting on how the boys had gone to see a good movie but you were happy watching these bad ones, and he’d put his arm around you, and that’s really where everything had gone wrong.

Well, maybe  _wrong_  wasn’t the right word to use.

Seungkwan had said some joke – one that hadn’t been very funny – and you’d turned to look at him and tease him for it, but his face had been  _right_ there beside yours and he didn’t pull away, just stared at you wide-eyed with red slowly painting his cheeks, mouth stuck open in the beginning of some sentence that had never left his mouth.

And you’d kissed him.

It hadn’t been a soft or sweet kiss – the angle was all wrong, and your teeth hit together borderline painfully, but the boy responded almost instantly, sucking your tongue into his mouth and taking your breath away in a way you  _knew_  would have been impossible for someone who had never kissed anyone before. (You momentarily wondered which of the cute high school girls he’d practiced on, immensely grateful to them.)

His hands had been all over you, fingers pinching and grabbing handfuls of absolutely whatever he could get, devouring your mouth like he was starving. He’d started a trail of hot and wet openmouthed kissed down your neck, tongue laving over the tender flesh like he couldn’t wait to taste every single part of you.

That’s where you found yourself now, Seungkwan having grabbed your ass with both hands and hoisted you onto his lap, mouth sucking a dark red mark just below your shirt collar. Neither of you knew where this was going, or what it was going to lead to, but you didn’t think he minded, and by the way he was breathing harshly against your skin you sure as hell didn’t either. The tiniest of little whimpers left his throat when you shifted on his lap, and in no time at all he was forcing you down against his hard-on that you’d been semi-ignoring, grinding up against the fabric of your thin leggings, your arms loosely wrapped around his neck. Vernon would have absolutely  _screamed_  if he had seen the two of you now.

You might have screamed too, but for entirely different reasons. Your breath puffed out between your lips in shuddering breaths, Seungkwan’s hold almost bruisingly tight on you. His eyes were half-lidded, glazed over with lust and exertion, the most beautiful little grunts and moans escaping his lips every time he grinded up or forced you to rub against him.

He’d been wearing sweatpants, literally the worst kind of clothing in the world to try to hide a boner with, but the best to dry-hump with, apparently. Seungkwan certainly wasn’t complaining – especially not when you started moving your hips too, sliding up just the tiniest of bits so your clit was pressed against his sensitive head, watching attentively when he threw his head back against the back of the couch and let out the sweetest moan you’d ever heard. God were you ever glad you’d worn leggings that day – you’d had to wear those lacey underwear with them just so there hadn’t been a panty-line, and even though they were a mess now you just couldn’t find it in yourself to care while you shamelessly humped one of Seventeen’s main vocals against their couch, a wet spot very noticeable on his sweatpants.

One of his hands had slid up from your ass to your front, slipping a hand beneath your shirt and under your bra. His expression, even though contorted in pleasure, very clearly screamed that he enjoyed being able to touch a girls breast – he was still a teenage boy, no matter what he said or did.

His hips had lost their previous rhythm, now just sporadic and spastic lurches that clearly indicated he was close – you grabbed the hand that was up your shirt and guided it down to your clothed heat, and even though he clearly didn’t understand what he was supposed to do other than hold it there, it did the trick, and you bucked against them, his fingers curling up against the cloth automatically, orgasming with his name on your lips. His eyes went wide, watching the way you arched against him, feeling the way you writhed over his clothed dick – you couldn’t have missed his orgasm if you had tried. His breath caught in his throat, moans tapering off into a choked off gasp, his cheeks red and face scrunched up in bliss. You got your breath back before he did, and while you littered his face with little kisses that had him giggling you slid off of his lap, watching his face contort again, though this time in disgust.

“Ugh – you made a mess.”

“Me?” The question was incredulous, and you poked at the bigger wet spot on his pants, giggling yourself when he flinched away from it. “I don’t think this was  _just_  me, Kwannie.”

He grinned again - that horrible, teenager-esque type grin, one that clearly said he was still riding out the after-effects of a mind-blowing orgasm. Any worry about messing up this friendship had gone out the window long ago – especially when the diva wrapped his arm back around your shoulders, drawing you up against his side. Leaning up near your face so his breath ghosted out over your cheek, he opened his mouth to whisper to you –

“Seungkwan-ah! (Y/n)! We’re home!”

That was Vernon’s distinctive voice, and Seungkwan’s smooth expression quickly melted into one of shock and horror – this was one thing he wasn’t sure he could talk his way out of, especially when your face was still flushed and his gray sweatpants still sported a very obvious wet spot.

You grabbed a blanket resting on the back of the couch, throwing it over the two of you the moment all twelve boys ended up crowding into the room, half of them commenting on you two “snuggled” together and the other half commenting on the movie you’d forgotten was even on.

“Vernonnie, you’re not worried that they’re going to  _get busy_  under that blanket?”

“Nah – he’d never do something like that.”

You could feel Seungkwan bury his face in your neck, feigning sleepiness – in actuality, you were the only one that could hear him mutter; “We’re going to have to sit under this blanket until they all go to bed.”

Fun.

~~The two of you ended up sneaking kisses the rest of the night with Seventeen surrounding you  - you were pretty sure Jeonghan had noticed your hickey the one time your shirt collar had slipped down, but he hadn’t said anything - and when Seungkwan got up after they turned out the lights to better watch the movies you followed him to his bedroom. _That_  part was fun.~~


	33. Stay [Soonyoung/GenderNeutralReader]{NSFW Drabble}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Loosely based off the prompt "Let me show you why you should stay in bed"_  
>  **Warnings:** No condom use, I’m shit at explaining so the sex position they’re in is the lotus position, it’s sort of super realistic and soft??? like, sex isn’t always mindblowing, that doesn’t mean it’s bad  
>  **Written 04/21/18**

He laughed at you softly, arms around your waist, grin pressed into the crook of your neck. The white robe he was wearing had slipped down to his biceps, bare skin pressing against your equally bare back. Hands darted across your chest, circling your navel, dipping lower – your hands swatted at his reprimandingly.

“Soonyoung..” Your words were scolding but they were tinged with amusement, a secret smile of your own dancing across your lips at the sudden whine he inflected his tone with.

“Come onnnn… just stay in bed with me.” He murmured, voice a husky sound, vocal chords not yet warmed up. Even with the dredges of sleep clinging to him he could still be playful, and you loved that about him.

It was early – early enough that the sun had barely peaked over the horizon – but you were used to getting up early to get things done, however, now that Soonyoung had begun staying over more and more it was getting harder and harder to keep that routine going.

Not that you  _minded_ , particularly, of course.

“I have things to do, Soonyoungie..” You murmured, even as he used his strong arms to pull you back down beside him, nose nuzzling happily against yours as he dotted your face with kisses. An almost soundless laugh was tugged from your chest – he could be really adorable with his antics.

“I have something  _I_  want to do, too, you know..” He chuckled softly at his own joke – you rolled your eyes at it, amused but exasperated – and this time didn’t stop his wandering hands as they edged further and further down, parting your own robe like water.

The two of you usually didn’t wear robes to bed, but after taking a shower together you’d just been so exhausted from the..  _activities_  that had taken place that you both had fallen asleep together on your bed without changing.

“You’re incorrigible..” You muttered, breath fluttering out as his fingers slipped lower and caressed you, lips pressed against your neck applying a gentle pressure that makes you weak from the core outwards.

“You love me.” He responds, teasingly with serious undertones – he doesn’t protest as you bat his hands away and turn on him, sliding over to straddle his hips. There’s not much nuance left between the two of you – both of you are bare save for the robes sliding off your skin, and you can see his arousal clearly, flushed red and pressing up against his abdomen.

“Do you need to prep..?” The way he can ask this so candidly, and with an innocent and loving expression on his face, makes your heart swell and your face heat. His fingers reach for you, almost as if he’s going to check himself – you move away out of instinct and he takes the chance given to him to slide out from under you, leaning himself against the headboard of the bed.

“I think I’m still good from before –“ ‘Before’ was last night, but you were up so early that it was in actuality only a few hours ago.. Soonyoung had the remarkable ability at keeping you up much later than you were used to. “- but let’s take it slow, just in case.”

“Of course, darling.” That was a relatively new pet-name he’d picked up for you, and while you weren’t entirely sure it fit you as a person, his face always shone with love and affection when he said it and you just hadn’t felt the need to correct him yet.

His hands land on your hips as you sink yourself down onto him – it’s a bit of a stretch but Soonyoung is gentle and keeps his hips still as you acclimate to his size again.

From your position you’re able to lean forward and connect your lips to his, and he tastes fresh and distinctly warm, filling you with both a relaxing heat and a pleasurable one.

You can’t do much in this position except grind against him, but when you do the two of you let out fairly different moans, yours a breathy whine and his a groan from deep within his chest. The pace is a bit awkward but it doesn’t affect the two of you much – so long as it feels good for the two of you, both of you are fine with it. It doesn’t matter to either of you if sex is something serious or flawless – it’s more perfect for the two of you if there are loving grins thrown into it, laughter whenever Soonyoung’s moan is louder than it had previously been or when your hands fly to his shoulders when he slides unexpectedly deeper.

Orgasms aren’t some sort of mind-shattering thing – he grunts and pulls you closer, skin flush against his own, lips on yours, and he swallows up your keening moan as you tighten around him, mind blanking for a few moments as pleasure washes over you.

You stay together for a few moments, him peppering your neck and cheeks with kisses and you being able to sneak in a few in yourself before he helps you slowly slide off of him – he grins at the face you make at the sudden sense of loss and at the feeling of the mess he’d left.

“Gross.” You comment, smile completely at odds with your negative word – he chuckles and slides out of bed, pulling his robe back up onto his shoulders.

“I’ll get something to help clean you up.” He promises, leaning over to kiss you sweetly before vanishing to the bathroom.

You sigh and lay back on the bed, completely sated – it occurs to you that he once again got his way and kept you from getting out of bed, and you can’t help your amused sigh at the thought. If this was how he was always going to bribe you to stay in bed in the mornings you weren’t sure you had it in yourself to stick to your old routine.


	34. (S)ain't [Joshua/Reader]{NSFW}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"hey! i love your writing so really hope you get to my request~ May I request a smut with my greatest bias wrecker, Joshua being hesitant to make any sexual advances towards his girlfruend until he finds that she's kink af (from her internet history or something) and finally decides to go for it? ~awkward turtle anon~"_  
>  **Warnings:** Sex, eating out  
>  **Written 12/26/16**

Joshua wasn’t a  _prude_ , contrary to popular belief. He wasn’t going to stare at your cleavage or ass whenever you bent over simply because it wasn’t polite to – he didn’t care how often Hoshi or Mingyu told him he should. (They shouldn’t be looking at  _his_  girlfriend anyway!)

He wasn’t going to go any farther than kissing your head in public because anything else would simply be going too far. And he wasn’t going to have sex with you until you two were married. You hadn’t shown any interest in sex, so he wasn’t going to press the subject.

But he was a man, and if he said that he wasn’t affected by you at all it would be a bare faced lie. More often than not he’d love to leave behind his “gentleman” image and lay you out across the nearest table and just ravish your entire body.

Needless to say, he secretly masturbated to you  _a lot._

Like, once a day at least. It was completely your fault that he took the longest in the bathroom – his bandmates could say whatever and make whatever jokes they wanted about how long he took, but all he knew was that he’d probably come to a silent release in there more often than any of them combined. Most of the time while looking at a picture of you on his phone.

It was hard to control those urges around you, but it was all worth it. He’d do anything for you, wait any amount of time for you.

And today was one of those harder days. You were wearing probably the cutest spring dress he’d ever seen, white with some sort of red flowers dotted along the side, and it showed just enough leg and just enough cleavage that he thought he might actually go insane as well as bite through his bottom lip completely.

You didn’t even have a  _need_  to wear a dress that sinful. You were just hanging out at an empty dorm with him, watching movies or funny videos on his phone or really anything else that struck either of your fancies at the time.

So why’d you have to go and wear such a distracting dress?

“Jagiya, what do you want to watch next?” His voice came out deceptively calm, one arm slung around your shoulders casually, though he did lean up to kiss your cheek when you smiled at him. (You smelled fucking wonderful and that wasn’t fair either.)

“Mmmn.. Oh! There’s a new episode out on that drama we were watching!” You exclaimed happily, fishing out your phone from where it’d fallen between couch cushions. “Here – I’m going to run to the bathroom really quickly, but you can pull it up in the meantime.” He politely – maybe unwisely, some men would say – averted his gaze while you entered your password to unlock your phone before taking it when you handed it to him. His eyes followed you when you stood up.

“What was it called again?”

“It’s in my history!” You shouted over your shoulder. “You can just find it through there!”

He nodded, forgetting that you couldn’t see it. It felt weird to be going through your phone – even if he had gotten your permission, he still felt like he was snooping.

And then his jaw dropped. It literally fucking dropped because  _oh my god_ your history. Maybe you had forgotten to clear it, maybe you had meant for him to see it – but he couldn’t comprehend any of that. His eyes had gone wide, trying to take in all the different kinds of pornography you had in your history. It wasn’t that you’d opened a lot of things, but the  _quality_  of them was something completely different. It wasn’t your standard, run of the mill, man on woman fucking type of porn either. Cock rings, vibrators, dildos, you name it, Joshua was looking at it.

Now, Joshua thought himself to be moderately educated on sexual positions and endeavors, but some of this stuff he’d never even  _thought_  of before.

_You_  had watched this stuff before.  _You_ , his sweet and perfect girlfriend, had possibly masturbated to these very videos before.

He had been fighting off a boner all night because of that dress of yours, but there was no use fighting it now. (At least he wasn’t wearing sweatpants.)

You returned way too quickly, and he just turned wide eyes to you, almost like he’d been caught doing something wrong. (He  _had_  been snooping through your history.)

“Did you find it?”

“I found something.” He answered quickly without thinking, watching the way your face paled when he turned your phone screen towards you. You snatched your phone back quickly, locking it even though the damage had already been done. It was clear you didn’t know what to say.

“I –“ You broke off again, looking guilty when you met his eyes. That look didn’t suit you.

“Darling..” He whispered it softly, though his voice sounded strained even to his own ears. “You never told me that you – “ Then again, if he’d thought about it, there wasn’t any evidence that said you  _wouldn’t_  watch porn either.

“..I didn’t think you’d approve.” You answered softly, gaze traveling back down to the black screen of your phone. “Especially since you didn’t want to have sex until we were married.”

“No.” No, that was wrong. “I want you –  _only_  you – but I want you so badly.” He wasn’t sure where this streak of confidence was coming from, but damn was he glad that it had appeared. “I didn’t want you to think I just wanted you for the sex.”

You could have laughed aloud at that. Joshua only wanting you for sex? You knew that wasn’t the case for sure. He was too sweet to just use you.

“I know you wouldn’t do that.” The words were scarcely out of your mouth before he was upon you, lips kissing you hungrily. The two of you had kissed before, but it had never been anything like this – Joshua was acting like a starving man who needed your lips to stay alive. It must have been what a lust filled kiss from him felt like. You’d never experienced that before from him.

For someone who so rarely did so, he was an impressive kisser, if not an aggressive one. It almost seemed like he was trying to make up for months of not doing anything more than giving you a peck on the lips. His hands roamed over your body gently, the polar opposite of his mouth – he seemed to be too hesitant to go much farther, and you grasped his hands and led them to the hem of your dress. He took the silent cue quickly, fingers dancing along the insides of your thighs and causing you to shiver pleasantly.

This was all new territory to him too – in theory, he knew what he was doing, but the reality was much different. The reality was that your skin was soft underneath his fingertips, and your mouth tasted  _so_  damn good that he was getting light headed from his refusal to pull away.

He really wasn’t even sure what happened next – his instincts must have kicked in, because suddenly you were laid on your back on the couch, your legs over his shoulders and hands firmly on your waist. Your gaze on him was steady, mouth parted slightly as your breath gasped out between your lips, and thank god you looked so confident because he had absolutely no idea whether he was doing the “right” thing or not.

“Joshua..” Your voice sounded deceptively seductive, and he visibly shuddered at the sound. “What are you going to do?”

He left a kiss on the inside of your thigh, watching predatorily at the way you shivered. A few more kisses were littered along the skin there, getting closer and closer to where you most wanted his mouth.

Maybe you should have thought everything was going a bit too fast, but honestly you’d been waiting for over a year for Joshua to make any sort of advance towards you and you just couldn’t find it in yourself to take it slow anymore. Your hands had slid the bottom of your dress up towards your stomach, revealing your light pink panties. They weren’t exactly  _soaked_  yet, but Joshua’s gaze was noticeably drawn to it.

He preempted your next question by gently grabbing the hem of your underwear between his teeth and drawing them back to your mid-thighs – you shivered, flushing at how revealed you were for him. You weren’t  _nervous_  though – the fabric of his sweater was soft underneath your calves, and his gaze was loving and awe-struck when it came to rest on your face. You trusted him completely.

And god did you ever have a reason to. You were one hundred percent sure that he had never once gone down on a girl before, but he had your toes curling right off the bat. The fingers on one of his hands held your panties out of the way while his tongue delved as deep as possible into your cunt. He wasn’t even thinking at this point, mind a foggy mess of your smell and taste and appearance. He couldn’t believe he’d waited this long for something so wonderful.

You were making breathy little pants, one hand clutching the arm of the couch above your head and the other still holding your dress up – it was clear that Joshua was inexperienced, but somehow he seemed to know just what to do to you. He was especially focused on sucking on your clit – it was almost too must stimulation, electricity seeming to course through your body each time he did it.

“Josh –  _mn_  –“ You bit your lip to keep any other moans at bay, and he pulled back to stare down at you, pupils dilated and lips shiny. His unoccupied hand rubbed at the skin on your thigh lovingly – it almost seemed like a subconscious action.

“You taste  _so good_.” He whispered softly, watching you with reverence. Your pussy was throbbing at the sudden lack of stimulation, but his gaze was so intense and open and honest that you could ignore it for the time-being. “You look so beautiful.” He complimented again, moving back and letting you lay flat on the couch. Even if your back had been starting to hurt, you hadn’t wanted him to  _stop_.

“Joshua..?” He simply smiled wickedly at your questioning, licking sinfully at his lips while he moved to kneel in front of the couch. His hands ghosted over your legs promptingly.

“Turn this way, jagiya.” You let him guide you to recline on the couch, dress slipping back down to your waist as he gently drew your panties completely off. His dark eyes locked onto yours as he leaned back down, never once leaving yours as his mouth retook its place against you.

It was a different view entirely, watching Joshua’s bright head of hair move between your thighs – you dared to reach out and touch the strands, tugging on them lightly. That small action elicited a soft groan from Joshua, which in turn caused you to arch against his mouth pleasurably.

Joshua could have done this all day, but the jeans he was wearing weren’t exactly meant for containing fully hard cocks, and it had started to become painful quite a bit ago. Every small moan you let out went straight to his dick, and it was throbbing painfully at this point.

But he wasn’t going to focus on himself until you had come at least once – one of his thumbs sought out your clit and rubbed over it experimentally, his tongue licking along your inner walls. Your response was instantaneous, a high-pitched moan echoing out embarrassingly loudly. You didn’t bother wasting time with being embarrassed though. Joshua had taken the noise as a good sign, and was putting his all into recreating what he had done.

In no time at all you were coming onto his tongue, body spasming above him on the couch – one of his hands sought out yours, a sweet gesture that went unnoticed by you because of the haze in your mind and the pitch at which you had moaned. He sought to swallow every inch of your orgasm, though his eyes stayed trained on your face. He thought you were gorgeous, looking like you were fucked out and breathless while collapsed back against their couch.

“I love you.” He whispered against the soft skin on your thigh, placing a heartbreakingly sweet kiss there. “You’re so gorgeous.” He kissed the inside of your knee, your eyes following him glassily. It felt like you had just run a marathon.

Your arms reached out for him and he complied, gently drawing your weak, post-orgasm body into his arms. His soft lips sought out your neck, kissing at the skin there as he stroked back your hair. You were so precious to him, so beautiful and perfect.

The moment was ruined when you shifted  _ever so slightly_  and your leg brushed against the crotch of his jeans, and he whimpered into your ear. You pushed at his chest lightly, taking in his flushed face before your gaze traveled down to his jeans, and the very prominent bulge in them. You traced a finger over the zipper line, watching the way the muscles in his arms flexed as his fought his involuntarily urge to stop you. (It was cute how embarrassed he could get.)

“Do you have a condom?” Your voice wasn’t nearly as fucked out as you’d feared it would sound, and you grinned slightly at the way he nodded and instantly leaned towards his wallet. You were taking birth control, but it was always good to be extra safe.

You scooted back against the couch, drawing your dress up and over your head – his breath audibly caught in his throat, eyes wide as he stared at you. You were sitting in just your bra, skin getting chilled from the air.

“…So gorgeous.” He murmured softly, before tugging his own sweater up and over his head. His skin was deliciously tanned, a faint outline of abs present – your mouth just watered at the sight. The muscles in his arms were more prominent now, and you watched in rapture as he stood and kicked off his jeans. His boxers were hardly containing his cock – it was clearly hard, and you urged to touch it. But that could wait for a later date.

“Take it off.” His tone was commanding, but the edges of it was still soft – you had no problem reaching back to unclip your bra and tossing it to rest with your panties. Your nipples had peaked up in the cold air of the dorm, and Joshua definitely took notice. In an instant he was back at your side, mouth latching onto your nipple. He scraped his teeth over it, sucked on it, licked at it – he did basically everything one could possibly do with their mouth to a breast, and then moved to do it all over again to the other one. You could feel yourself getting wet again, one of his hands warm against your back and the other tracing nonsense patterns on your thigh.

“Joshua..” He pulled back, lips glistening with spit, eyes gazing at you inquisitively. “I want you.” Your voice was a mere whisper, but he heard it loud and clear. The rest was mostly a blur – he discarded his boxers and put the condom on in record time, kissing away any tears of discomfort that leaked from your eyes when he buried himself deep within you. (His breath had stuttered out between his lips, eyes squeezed shut at first – and you couldn’t blame him. The first time was always amazing.)

When he moved it was deep and slow, grinding his hips slowly and dropping kisses all over your neck and collarbone. A steady stream of soft compliments left his lips, tinged with grunts of pleasure. One of his hands had found its way back to yours, interlacing your fingers together sweetly, the other constantly running over your skin softly, as if trying to commit your body to memory. It felt fucking perfect, the way he filled you up completely, how the slowness of his thrusts allowed for him to drag along your inner walls in all the right ways.

Sex with Joshua was the literal definition of love making. You would have waited one thousand and one more years to be able to experience this with him. There was nothing lusty or rough about it – the time for that would come later. The time for dark marks blossoming out along both of yours skin would be saved later. Now was the time for interlaced fingers and whispered affirmations of love, soft kisses exchanged while your bodies were as close as two people could physically ever be.

He came first, though neither of you really cared – you kissed at his gaping mouth as he rode out his high, surprisingly high moans echoing from his lips as he emptied himself into the condom. Panting and breathless, he reached down to rub at your clit to help tip you over the edge, and you were gone. You weren’t sure if you had ever come harder in your life, and the way your walls clamped down around him caused him to grunt in a mixture of pleasure and pain. You floated along on your high while he disposed of the condom – hopefully the boys wouldn’t notice it – and grabbed a fluffy blanket, crawling back onto the couch with you and tucking you securely into his chest. The blanket was soft against both of your bare skin, and his warm hand rubbed up and down your back.

“I love you..” It was whispered out softly between your lips, but he heard it clearly, bending down to kiss you on the top of your head. He’d let you sleep for an hour or so before getting the two of you back into your clothes – the boys weren’t due back for a while.

“I love you too, darling.”

~~Needless to say, Joshua couldn’t help smirking whenever any of his members sat on that couch later.~~


	35. Sweet Punishment [Sub!Jihoon/Reader]{NSFW}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"You should total do a sub woozi who is out with the guys but is needy so he sexts his wife and tells her how much he needs his mommy to just destroy him and he ends up touching himself while he's out and when he gets home he gets punished for it (like straight up pegging, edgeding, and spanking till in tears kinda stuff)~ man my mind comes up with straight up filth when i'm runnong on no sleep - quxxn-things"_  
>  **Warnings:** Edging, spanking, handcuffs, hair pulling, pegging, mommy kink, tears [in a good way], exhibitionism if you squint really fucking hard at the beginning, praise kink if you squint kinda hard somewhere in the middle, fingering?, oral, a weird ending because how do you end something  
>  **Written 12/13/17**

It was hell, and Jihoon was already regretting agreeing to this inane outing. First off, he hadn’t wanted to go outside in the first place – he didn’t like going out, and didn’t go out often, but there was only so much persuading and pleading and pouts from Mingyu that he could stand before he ultimately caved and agreed to join them.

Most of the time it wasn’t  _that_  bad, he had to admit.

It wasn’t even all that bad this time either – it would have been perfectly fine if you hadn’t somehow slipped your way into his thoughts, your perfect lips, your perfect body, your perfect everything that could wreck him in a mere moment..

Needless to say, he’d made some lame and unbelievable excuse about needing to go to the bathroom, pointedly ignoring Joshua’s expression that said “I know you’re lying, but I just don’t know why you’d lie about something like that”.

And that’s where he found himself now.

His head thuds back against the door of the bathroom stall he’d ducked into, eyes shutting in the face of his predicament – he glances down to make sure his hard-on isn’t visible, raking a hand through his hair when he sees some tenting, even with all of his shifting and rearranging.

This wasn’t supposed to happen – he wasn’t some hormonal kid anymore, worrying about boners appearing for absolutely no reason. (Of course, the reason was you, but for fuck’s sake he should have better control than this.)

But here he fucking was, locked in a bathroom stall that none of his members had mercifully followed him into, mind racing to try and figure out what to do. The easiest option would of course be to simply take care of it, but something instead compels him to text you, hoping that you wouldn’t be busy and could sext him into oblivion.

It only takes you a few moments to respond to his text, and your response dries his mouth out. A simple six words.

_‘No. Wait for me at home.’_

He lets out a ragged sigh, hand dragging down his face and then over his covered dick, fingers lingering there, teasing himself tortuously.

Jihoon knows what your next text is going to be the moment his phone vibrates, knew before you even sent it, but he touched himself anyway.

_‘Do NOT touch yourself, Jihoon.’_

_‘Too late’_

His response is met with silence from your end, and he knows what that means. There’s a punishment waiting for him at home, and the longer he takes to get home the longer he’s going to have to suffer with his little ‘problem’. (Despite liking your punishments, he can’t bring himself to disobey you more and pleasure himself to completion.)

When he ducks out of the bathroom and makes some half-hearted excuse as to why he’s going home it’s Jeonghan who gives him the eye this time, and he feels uncomfortable under the elder’s gaze, as if he’s been laid bare for everyone to see. Or for Jeonghan to see. And if Jeonghan knew no doubt he’d find some way to tease Jihoon about it, even if it was weeks later.

When he gets to your house his nerves have all settled in the pit of his stomach, and he’s tense when you kiss his cheek in greeting, fingers shaking as they unzip his coat – he’s a mess already, and while you like him to be a mess, you prefer it to be of the pleasurable, sexual nature instead of this.

“Jihoonie.” His head jerks towards you at the sound of his name, frozen in place with his coat half off his body. “Relax baby.”

You’re not sure it’s going to work, but you’re relieved when you see the tension drain from his shoulders, and you allow him to hang his coat up before you grip one of his frigid hands in yours and lead him towards the bedroom.

“You really weren’t kidding, were you?” You tease him softly about the obvious tent in his pants and he licks his lips before responding with a very soft “no”, leaning in to kiss you when you prompt him to. There’s a certain restrained neediness lurking just beneath the kiss – you can feel it in the way he holds himself back, how he keeps his arms stubbornly at his sides even as your own fingers caress his jaw.

“I’m going to punish you, okay baby?” His fingers tighten into fists at his sides, but he doesn’t protest – he knows better, and he meets your gaze steadily. “But I promise you’ll get your release at the end, okay?” Your voice is sweet and soothing, the calm before the storm – your fingers lock behind his neck and bring him forward for another kiss, one full of love and adoration and affection.

“Okay mommy.” His voice has changed, submissive and accepting – he knows this routine, trusts you with every single part of himself, every facet of his pleasure. He dutifully obeys when you direct him towards the bed, sitting on the edge and watching you questioningly – he swallows harshly when you tug your top off over your head, shimmying out of your pants next. He knows he’s probably not going to be able to touch, but there’s no rule that stops him from staring and drinking in the beautiful image of you in just your under clothes.

“Clothes off, Jihoonie.” You instruct, smiling at him and waiting for him to obey. He does so with only a small amount of hesitation, cheeks flushing red as he tugs his sweater over his head and fumbles with his belt buckle. You’ve seen him naked before, countless,  _countless_  times, but every single time he felt the same stupid butterflies in his stomach and he blushed the same stupid red he always did. (Stupid from his perspective, of course. It was adorable to you.)

When he’s completely naked you appraise him silently and quickly – his erection is flagging a bit from the lull in all the excitement, but you’re not worried in the least, crawling towards the middle of the bed to sit there expectantly.

He knows what this means – and he was expecting it, too – but that doesn’t stop the mixed rush of dread and anticipation as he carefully lays himself over your lap, hovering there on his hands and knees.

The hand you place on his back is cold, and he suppresses a shiver as you lightly run your fingertips up and down his spine, soothing and exciting him at the same time.

When the first smack comes he doesn’t say anything, head bowing and fingers curling into fists in the sheets. It’s not that it doesn’t hurt – it does, for sure – but there’s something else about it, something Jihoon hadn’t been able to figure out that excited him and sent a small thrill through him every single time. It burned in a way nothing else did, lit a fire in his blood that burned with a different kind of intensity. It wasn’t just “pain” – it didn’t even hurt that much in the grand scheme of things.

Every smack that comes after that increases in its intensity, and Jihoon recognizes the familiar heat that steadily curls in his belly at it. He’s not quite  _ashamed_  at how quick his dick gets hard, but he is embarrassed, and it’s sort of hard to ignore when that position has it pressed into the bed, every jolt causing it to drag along the fabric.

He can’t count how long you do this, how many hits he gets – they all blur into one thing, pain and pleasure mixing in a frustratingly cohesive way, every nerve ending lit on fire by your hand alone.

At this point his cock has smeared a generous amount of pre-come onto the bedsheets, and he can feel tears dripping down his face – he doesn’t know  _why_  he’s crying, doesn’t want you to think the wrong thing, that he can’t handle this sort of torture. (He loves it, loves how you push him to the very edge and keep him there. You haven’t even started your fun yet and he’s already wrecked.)

And of course you’ve noticed the tears – the fingers from one of your hands slide across his cheek, the skin cool against his fevered skin as it brushes away the liquid.

“You okay baby?”

His heart swells in his chest at the sincerity in your voice, threatening to choke him with the amount of love he feels for you. He struggles through a shaky breath, tears making his voice thick when he murmurs “Yeah, mommy.”

“Good. You know I love you very much, right Jihoonie?” You ask, hand drifting down to give his neglected dick one firm pump. His breath catches in his throat, and he coughs out a strangled mewl as his arms give out, and you barely have time to slip an arm beneath his shoulders to keep him from going face first into the sheets. (In the deep recesses of his mind he realizes you’ve done this, and his heart beats once, painfully, at how clear it is that you love and care for him.)

“Y-yes..” Jihoon answers you shakily a few moments later, after pushing himself back up onto all fours. The tears have dried along his cheeks in an annoying mess, and there’s still liquid caught in his lashes that feels cold against the air in the bedroom.

“Come on up here, Jihoonie – I want you to recline like the prince you are.”  You murmur softly, and even though every single nerve-ending in his body is on fire at your brief touches against his skin he shakily moves to the head of the bed where he can rest on his back, head cushioned on the pillow and another directly above his tailbone.

You take a moment to stare at him, drinking him in – he stares back quietly, blinking a bit more often than usual because of the lingering tears. He’s really fucking beautiful like this, really fucking beautiful all the time, and you rub a hand up and down his calf in an attempt to be doing something while ogling him.

“Does it hurt too much like that?” Your question is met with confusion for a long moment, but you don’t explain more – Jihoon likes to understand things on his own, and after a few moments of silence he realizes what you mean and nods.

“It just burns a little, mommy.” He answers you softly, with an air of reverence, and when you lean down to kiss him his mouth is hungry and insistent, pressing up against your lips with a neediness he had been careful not to show before.

When you pull away his lips are glistening and his eyes are glazed, and you really just want to drop everything and make him come right there – but you won’t. Not yet. He still needs to be punished more.

You slip off the bed to grab the handcuffs, and even though you hear Jihoon audibly sigh he places his wrists together above his head on the pillow and doesn’t fight you when you close the fur-lined clasps around his wrists after looping it through the headboard.

“I know you don’t like them very much Jihoonie, but you  _are_  being punished.” You murmur, making sure the cuffs are on just tight enough that he can’t easily slip out of them. “Say something if anything starts to hurt, okay? Your shoulders, your wrists, your –“

“Mommy.” He interrupts you brazenly, but there’s the hint of that smirk you love so much playing around his lips that simply makes you smile at him in return. “I’ll say something if it starts to hurt.” He promises you, dark eyes filled with trust and love. You know that in turn you have to trust him to fulfill that promise.

You settle down cross-legged at one of his hips, hand going to his dick that had been cruelly ignored until now – even without any attention he was still completely hard, and his eyes slid shut when your fingers wrapped around it.

It didn’t take long for him to get on the edge – he squirmed at all the lightning bolts that shot across his skin with every pump of your fingers, every glide of flesh over flesh. He knew there was a catch somewhere, because this was a  _punishment_  after all, but through his hazy thoughts he can’t figure out what it is, he just wants you to keep going, send him further and further into oblivion –

And then you fucking stop and he lets out a pained whine as all the sensations stop, the pleasure ebbing away in an irritatingly slow manner. Your hand rests on his thigh, and it’s sticky and gross and he  _fucking wants it back on his dick_  more than anything else.

“Mommy..” He shifts around uncomfortably, and you watch passively as he tries to do.. something. You’re not sure what. It’s not like he could get out of those handcuffs.

“Yeah, Jihoonie? Did you want me to touch you more?” You accompany your words by taking a teasing grasp of his dick, and he trembles and exhales shakily through his nose as he tries to thrust into it.

“Y-yeah.. yes.” His answer cracks his voice the first time he tries to respond, and you watch as he licks his lips and clears his throat before trying again. He’s so fucking cute.

And he’s a good submissive too, vocal as hell but good at obeying all your commands. Even if he complains he doesn’t actually do anything to try and stop you as you relentlessly bring him to the edge over and over again, until there’s mess of pre-come on his stomach and he’s so hard he physically hurts, can feel every throb in every vein and muscle.

“Please..” It’s a breathy beg that you hear as if he shouted – his eyes are rimmed in red and his lips are shiny with saliva and you’re not at all shocked when you glance at the time and realize you’ve been doing this for over fifteen minutes. He hasn’t given you the safeword and he hasn’t started crying yet, so you’re not all that worried, but you figure it’s time to give him his release he so desperately craves. (Truth was, the punishment  _may_  have been a bit too much for what he’d done, but he rarely ever did anything you could punish him for anyway.)

“Okay baby.” You murmur quietly, and his eyes snap close at your response, every muscle in his body relaxing before tightening again as you set a brutally fast pace with your hand.

Being in your own house means he can be as loud as he wants when he orgasms, and you’re quite proud of the pitch at which he moans when he paints his upper chest white, the volume at which he thanks his mommy for finally giving him his release. You’d worked hard on him to get him comfortable enough to be that vocal.

You take a few seconds to milk him of his orgasm before you’re up to get a towel to clean him off with – when you come back he’s still a panting mess, eyes shut and hair mussed as his mouth hangs open in a small ‘o’ shape. Once his chest is relatively clean you unclasp his handcuffs and try to check for any injuries – he’s limp in your hands, though his eyes slide open when you kiss one of his knuckles.

He meets your gaze with his dark eyes, quiet, and you can’t resist pressing a soft kiss to his chapped lips.

“Roll over, okay?” You murmur softly, and he does it without hesitation. His ass is still slightly red, and you bend down to give it a kiss too because  _hot damn his ass is really fucking nice_.

He makes a small sound and you glance up to see his head turned to stare back at you, eyes relatively wide as they try to figure out what your next step is. You recognize the still present neediness in his expression, and though you’re surprised at it, you don’t ignore it.

“You’ve gotten your punishment already, baby – do you want me to fuck you now?”

These words seem to trigger something in Jihoon, and he raises his ass slightly in the air, tantalizingly, right in front of your face. “Yes mommy. Please fuck me – I deserve to be –“

“You  _do_  deserve it, because you’re such a good boy and you took your punishment so well that you deserve a reward.” You cut him off softly, hand massaging into the soft and slightly abused flesh of his ass. It wasn’t that you didn’t  _like_  dirty talk like that, but it was hard for you to go along with degrading your precious Jihoonie, and you’d fallen into the habit of turning anything like that into praise. (Jihoon never seemed to mind, and you had the feeling he continued to say things like that because he liked being praised.)

“Why don’t you get yourself ready for me while I get what I need?” It’s an order phrased as a statement, and when you turn your back to get the equipment you’d need you can hear him shuffling around on the bed, and then the inevitable soft noises he makes as he eases himself open.

It only takes a couple of minutes for you to get the four-strap harness on and lubed up, but by the time you return to him he’s already got three of his pretty fingers disappearing inside of him in regular intervals, mouth hanging open.

“You were pretty eager, huh baby?” You murmur, fingers dragging across the skin of his ass. “I guess I don’t need to ask if you’re really up for this.” Your fingers wrap around his wrist and force him to pull his hands away, his whines of loss being transformed into a moan of need when you pressed the blunt tip of the dildo against him. Your fingers on his hips keep him from pressing back onto it.

“Please..” He moans into the pillow, not above begging if it means you’ll truly wreck him. You’ve done this before, many times – it wasn’t awkward anymore, wasn’t a bunch of mistakes that somehow led to an orgasm. By now you knew how to do it in just the way that would have him falling apart and  _wouldn’t_  cause your hips to feel like you were breaking them.

After making sure both he and the dildo were properly lubed you pushed in slowly, reveling in the choked groan that left his lips at the rough slide. His fingers had curled into the pillow, back taut, trembling at the sudden intrusion that was so much bigger than his fingers.

“You’re okay, Jihoonie.” You soothe softly, hand rubbing up and down his back, hips perfectly still as he got accustomed to the feeling. “Just relax baby.”

It always takes him a minute or so to get adjusted, but once he’s used to it he prefers it fast and rough – and you have no problem giving it to him.

The pace you set is definitely rough and fast, much too fast for you if you’d been on the receiving end, but Jihoon is moaning, urging you on, begging you for  _harder_  and  _faster_  and you endeavor to please him, hand that’s not on his hip dropping down to his cock.

It’s already hard and leaking pre-come again, and when you start giving it haphazard pumps he falls apart even more, hips thrusting forward into your hand and then backwards onto the dildo, even if the angle of your hand is awkward and can’t be all that satisfying.

Your other hand eventually travels up to flick across one of his dusky pink nipples, and he jerks at the feeling. You repeat the gesture a few more times before your hand moves to his hair, fisting it and pulling harshly. His response is a gasp that catches in his throat, a loud “yes” dropping from his lips at the feeling.

“Feels good..!” He manages out, voice a cross between a groan and actual speaking. You drop a kiss onto his shoulder, fingers releasing his hair. Your hips are starting to feel tired, but you refuse to give up, refuse to slow down for a fraction of a second.

“You gonna come, baby? Gonna come again and ruin the sheets like a bad boy?” Your voice is an anchor to him, cool and refreshing, a calm force in his otherwise chaotic mind that can only focus on pleasure.

When he orgasms it’s with a loud whine, and your hips still as he clenches down impossibly tight, hips bucking as he comes into your hand. There’s not as much as the first time, and this way you save the sheets from needing to be cleaned right that minute. (They’d get cleaned tomorrow – tonight you just wanted your Jihoonie to be able to fall asleep instantly.)

You wipe your hand off on the foot of the bed, other hand smoothing along Jihoon’s shoulders as you pull out – he whimpers and eases himself back onto the bed, breath leaving his lips in soft pants.

It takes you a few minutes to put everything away – sheets and the harness and dildo can be cleaned tomorrow – and you come back with a warm washcloth, gently rubbing Jihoon’s cute and sweaty face with it. The original towel had been dirtied, and also lost on the floor somewhere.

When you finally settle down beside him he looks so exhausted and wrecked that you honestly feel a little bit proud – he shifts so he can face you, a sleepy and satisfied smile adorning his face, a few strands of wetted hair from the washcloth sticking to his face.

“You feel good, Jihoonie? Everything okay?” You ask him softly, and he nods and reaches for your underwear.

“Yes, mommy.” His fingers draw a soft, fluttering line down the cotton covering your core, and you watch him with cool eyes – this was new. Usually he was content to fall asleep in your arms.

“Mommy never gets to feel good.” He murmured softly, voice tired but eyes bright. “And she’s so wet..”

“Mommy feels good when she makes you feel good, baby.” You answered quietly – it wasn’t that Jihoon didn’t have any effect on you, but you were used to keeping yourself calm and composed. “Don’t worry about me, Jihoonie, you should rest.”

Jihoon doesn’t even act like he hears you, slowly scooting forward as his lithe fingers pull the fabric aside. His pupils, perpetually blown with lust, seem to expand again just at the sight.

Those sinful little fingers of his collect some of the moisture on his fingertips as he slides them up to rub softly against the little nub, pink tongue darting out to moisten his lips.

Your expression doesn’t falter but your body feels like it’s been struck with electricity, tingles sliding over your skin like water. Even with such a simple action he can elicit that type of response from you. (Even if you hide it.)

“Baby? What are you doing?” Your voice was steady, your fingers brushing through his hair, straightening it as he scooted the short distance to you. “You can take care of me some other time – “

He ignores you – a  _bad_ boy, though you feel inclined to let it slide this time – ducking forward to swipe a not so hesitant tongue against your slit, his thumb coming up to apply a gentle pressure to your clit.

“Did you want to taste me that badly, Jihoonie?” You murmur quietly, and he moans softly in appreciation, agreeing with your statement.

He’s methodical and precise, tongue delving deep while his thumb keeps a constant rhythm, and eventually you can feel the tightening in your gut, the heat that washes over you, the tension gathering at the base of your spine.

“Jihoonie..” You warn him quietly, fingers dancing across his cheek in a caress. “You’re so good to me. I’m going to come on your tongue soon.”

The sound he gives you in response is needy, and the little  _devil_  speeds up what he’s doing, desperate to taste you more. Your laugh is soft and breathy and it transforms into a sweet moan that he echoes back to you, lapping at you as the tension in your spine releases in the form of an orgasm, eyes sliding shut in ecstasy.

“Good.. good boy. Good Jihoonie. You’re so good to me.” You murmur softly, letting him continue to lick at you for a time, making sure he’s got everything up before you gently insist that he moves back to the pillow.

His smile is dazed but naughty, the hints of the Jihoon you know slipping through his submissive expression, and he watches you with sharp eyes as you slide your panties off and drop them on the floor to be picked up later.

You slide under the covers next to him and he curls instantly into your side, heading seeking out your shoulder.

“Mommy tasted good.” There’s absolutely no hints of submission in his sentence – he sounds cocky and confident and he’s fucking teasing you, so you have no qualms with flicking the arm of his that has been slung over you.

“Shut up.” You answer back, smile on your face, and his soft little chuckle resonates through you in a decidedly comforting manner.

The two of you stay like that for a while, in a haze of sleepy euphoria. He’s the first to fall asleep, and when you can feel his even breathing fluttering over your skin softly you allow yourself to sink deeper into sleep, satisfied that he was okay for the night.


	36. All Tied Up [Sub!Soonyoung/GenderNeutralReader]{NSFW Drabble}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Hi Luna, could you please write a hoshi smut with orgasm denial where he is tied up and begs to cum? thank you jbhfgfhgfhgfhgfh"_  
>  **Warnings:** Bondage, sex toy, blindfold, orgasm denial, premature ejaculation..?  
>  **Written 12/25/16**

“Please – let me just –“ He shakes under your hands, muscles straining against the red silken rope restraining him. It’s a simple takate kote knot restraining him, his ankles tied to the bedpost behind you as you straddle his shins. Soonyoung thrashes when you withdraw your fingers from his cock – it sits straight up despite how he’s laying down, a cock ring situated at the base of it. It’s the combination of this toy and his sheer will and obedience that has kept him from coming already – his lower stomach is sticky with smeared pre-come, as is your hand.

“How you feeling, baby? Arms don’t hurt?”

“Just wanna come..!” His voice is a whimpery mess, all semblance of manliness gone long ago – he was totally in your hands now, had trusted himself and his body and his pleasure to you and you alone. A red blindfold obscures his vision, matching the ropes and contrasting beautifully with his tanned skin and silver hair. A dark flush marks his cheeks and upper chest, which heaves with every shaky breath he takes.

“Soonyoungie.” Your voice is firm, and he takes in a harsh breath through his nose, body stilling. “They don’t hurt?”

“They don’t hurt.” He repeats softly after a moment of stillness, voice rough and raspy from how he’d been moaning and whimpering for the past half hour. It might break the mood every time you ask this, but as a dancer you don’t want him to pull one of his muscles, and as a human being you don’t want to ever hurt him.

“Good boy.” You punctuate this sentence by gripping his hard dick – he jerks, back arching off of the bed and hips thrusting up into your hand. His mouth hangs open in a silent moan, and you can see his fingers grip tightly into his own skin. “Does it feel good, Soonyoungie?” Your fingers glide over his shaft, stroking teasingly over the head – the skin is velvety smooth and slicked with pre-come, and you absent-mindedly bring your fingers up to your tongue.

“Pleeea _ase_..” He trails off into a moan as your free hand kneads at the inside of his thigh, every inch of his skin sensitive and tingling. There’s something so attractive about the way his legs are forced to stay spread despite how he tries to close them, muscles in his thighs flexing periodically when he does.

“Please what, babe?” You reach back down to pump him leisurely, hand sliding down over veins and coming to a stop right above the cock ring – he squirms awkwardly at the feeling, wanting you to move your hand but ultimately not being able to get you to do anything.

“Please – please  _please_  I want to come – oh _god_  – “ You move your hand to teasingly pump him one more time but he’s orgasming suddenly without your permission, entire body locking up as he whines out a high moan, painting his upper chest white. You can see his muscles clench out of sheer pleasure, head stretched back and neck exposed – some of the hickies you left earlier on his neck catch your eye, a stain on his otherwise flawless skin.

Taking advantage of the time where Soonyoung is coming down from his high you remove the ropes around his ankles – there are light red marks, but nothing bad.

“B-babe..?” It’s a whimpery question, one that’s asked when he feels the bed shift as you move to stand – no doubt he think he’s in trouble for coming without permission. You’re at his side in an instant, gently removing his blindfold as one hand caresses his cheek lovingly. “I’m sorry.. I came without permission..” His eyes are glossed over with tears, and you kiss at his face softly, stroking his hair back.

“Soonyoungie, it’s okay.” Your voice has shifted from cold to sweet – he shifts to cuddle into your chest, apparently undeterred by the ropes still on his arms. “It felt good, didn’t it?” When he nods you drop a kiss onto his nose, wrapping an arm around him to begin the lengthy process of untying his arms. “Then that’s all that matters. I just want you to feel good, babe.”

“You always make me feel good.” Soonyoung promises, voice stronger than before. “You made me feel so good I just couldn’t help myself.” He laughs softly at his own lame joke, falling silent as you continue to untie him – he periodically drops kisses on your neck or chin, ever affectionate.

When you finally get the ropes off he hisses and stretches his arms slowly, letting you gently rub at the red marks that had appeared to help the blood flow. When he catches your eye he grins widely, a radiant smile that washes away any of your doubts. He clearly wasn’t in pain.

“Do you think we can tie you up next?” He asks energetically, eyes bright and focused solely on you as he rubs absent-mindedly at his wrist. There’s no way you could say no to that face.

Besides, who would really want to?


	37. Listen to Me [Sub!Jihoon/GenderNeutralReader]{NSFW}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"sub jihoon and skype sex..........a good concept ~rainbow"_  
>  **Warnings:** Skype sex, sliiight oral fixation on Jihoon’s part, light exhibitionism/risk kink?, a bit dialogue heavy but hopefully it works, Jihoon’s the one in America this time instead of the reader because why not lol  
>  **Written 10/04/18**

The image quality is grainy, just bad enough that everything is cel-shaded. Skype is by far not your first option when it comes to video chats, but a combination of shitty servers and technical problems have made it a last resort for you and Jihoon.

It’s dark in whatever hotel room he’s in, and he squints at the brightness from your side – it’s nearing dusk in Korea, where you are, and Jihoon’s clearly not adjusted to the time change in America yet, as aside from looking grumpy at the contrast of light he seems not at all tired enough to sleep yet.

“Isn’t it late there?” You ask, swiveling back and forth in your chair – Jihoon sighs and ruffles his bangs, probably subconsciously, eyes darting to the side to what you assume is the clock beyond frame.

“Yeah. It’s almost 4 AM here..” His voice is just the slightest bit rough but mostly just annoyed, and his dark eyes glitter from the light of his phone. “The only plus to any of this is I got the room to myself, so I could call you.”

“That’s sweet.” You respond, blowing him a kiss and giggling when he wrinkles his nose at such a blatant display of affection. “Did you want me to try and help you fall asleep?”

“What, are you going to sing to me?” Jihoon jabs at you, and then he laughs at the expression on your face and it loosens something in your chest that you hadn’t known was tight. He seemed happy being able to talk to you face to face, at least, and that meant the world.

“No, I was thinking more along the lines of something that would physically exhaust you.” Your tone doesn’t change but you watch the way he slowly stills on the other side of the screen, eyebrows drawn together as he weighs the pros and cons of.. whatever it was you were cooking up. “Do you have any schedules tomorrow?”

“No.” His answer is quick, even if his expression says he’s still not sure he wants to go along with it just yet. “It’s a free day before they pile all our interviews and performances on at once.” He scoffs at the last part and you offer him a sympathetic glance, keeping to yourself your thrill at that good fortune.

“It’s up to you, Jihoonie.” The affectionate nickname doesn’t slip by him and it visibly weakens his resolve, tongue darting out to lick his lips the way he always did while thinking over what to say.

“…Alright.” His tone is noticeably softer than before, entire demeanor softer actually, and the camera shakes for a moment as he repositions himself so he’s more propped up in the hotel bed.

“Run your  _gorgeous_  fingers across your throat, Jihoonie, and down to your collarbones..” You murmur, dragging your fingers across your skin in the pattern you want him to follow. You don’t see any point in prolonging this, and he seems to have no qualms with jumping right into it either.

Jihoon swallows thickly and does as you told him, eyes flicking distractedly between your face and the way your hand had disappeared past the screen, below your upper chest. There’s not really any  _real_  reason to make him do this except to rile him up – he’s not super sensitive or anything, but by seeing you do the same motions and feeling it on his skin you hope he can pretend that it’s you.

And it seems to work, to some extent – his mouth has parted ever so slightly and his eyes have become glassy, his hand repeating the pattern over and over, gradually dropping lower, fingers sliding beneath the silky texture of his nightshirt..

But then it’s out of frame.

“Jihoon, I want to be able to see what you’re doing- don’t hide your beautiful body from me.”

The screen is instantly jerked down, and even though you can’t see anything above his mouth you can now see the way his fingers push aside the collar to his shirt, brushing at one of his nipples.

“Oh..” He sighs softly, and you prop your chin up on your hand, smiling at the image.

“You’re getting worked up awfully fast, Jihoon.. do you like being able to show off for me? Showing me how good you can make yourself feel - putting on a show for me?” Your words strike something in Jihoon, the thing you were aiming for, and he lets out a soft, breathy whine and scratches his nails lightly against one of his pectorals.

“Can – can you see enough..?” He murmurs, stumbling over his own words, and you can see his tongue dart out to wet his lips again, a sight that makes your stomach flip.

“Why don’t you prop your phone up on a pillow or something, sweet thing? That way I can see all of you.”

It takes a little bit of maneuvering on his part – and he sabotages himself multiple times, sending you sly glances as he rubs his hand back over his throat or chest – but he manages to prop it up against a pillow from a nearby chair, angled down his body so you can see all of him. It’s a strange angle, but when he peers up at the camera your stomach flips for the second time.

“This good?” His voice has lost some of its soft edge, so you nod and set your own phone on the desk in front of you, letting it lean back against a book, ready to  _really_  start the fun now.

“Yep – now I can see  _all_  of you, every little part.” He flushes ever so slightly – or maybe not slightly, considering you can see it through the horrible quality of the video – and reaches down to fidget with the hem of his shirt. You know what he really wants to do is adjust himself in the basketball shorts he’s wearing, but he doesn’t want to bring more attention to his  _little problem_  than need be.

“Turn the TV on, and then unbutton your shirt.” Your command is met with a confused glance, but he does so without question – he fiddles with the remote for a few moments before a light across from him flicks on and you can vaguely hear some sitcom in the background now. He eyes the TV for a few moments longer, brows furrowed, no doubt trying to figure out what the heck was going on when the show was in a different language before he apparently remembers you’d given him another task and his hands go to the buttons of his silky shirt, popping them open one by one until his chest is bared to you. He then looks to you silently, awaiting your next direction, completely in your metaphysical hands at this point.

“Next come your shorts..” You murmur, hints of amusement coloring your words – it’s almost a game at this point, telling him to do things and seeing him so faithfully carrying them out. To his credit he never falters either, just pulls his shorts down  _just_  far enough to draw his dick out so you can see it in all its glory, flushed and hard in his hand already. It was amazing how quickly he could get aroused just by listening to your voice alone.

“Now touch yourself.” Your words make him full-body shiver and he hesitantly does as you ask, fingers slowly stroking across his cock, letting his head fall back as he teased himself. Through the screen you can see a glistening bead of pre-cum at the tip, and Jihoon’s index finger comes down on it gently, dragging a sticky line of it down to the base.

You watch as he wraps his fingers gently around the head, dragging them down slowly at a pace you’re not sure you’d even try on him, squeezing tightly. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly, head tilting far back at the sensation, revealing his unmarred neck. (You felt an intense desire to change that particular detail and filed it away for when you saw him again.)

“Does it not feel good?” You hedge, knowing it does, leaning forward towards the phone slightly. “It doesn’t  _sound_  like it..”

He gets your unspoken message loud and clear and groans low in his throat, the sound building until it comes out as a breathy moan. It’s a beautiful sound, but not nearly as loud as you’d wanted out of him.

“Louder.” You order, and he moans a bit louder this time, face flushing a deep, dark crimson. The chances that anyone heard him with the TV on are low, but you know it’s the thought alone that gets to him. He’s turned his head slightly so his face is angled directly at the camera, hot cheek resting on the pillow.

You can see the way he’s jacking off, two fingers on bottom and thumb on top loosely wrapped around himself, and every now and then he rocks his hips into his hands or pushes his face more into the pillow. It’s an incredibly arousing sight and you desperately wish you were recording the video-call, but you know you could see it in person a few months later if you so desired.

His mouth has attached itself to his knuckles, you assume biting down to keep from being  _too_  loud – but every now and then you see his tongue flick out against his skin, so you’re not entirely sure what his reasoning for it is. Either way, it’s fucking hot.

“Don’t get your sheets dirty, Jihoonie.” You remind him, and he lets out a half-hearted whine and shifts a bit – you can’t actually see any of his pre-come through the screen but you know him and know there no doubt  _is_ some. “You know you’re not going to want to change the sheets when you’re done.”

He sends you a petulant, put-out glance at that comment that makes you smile, and then his eyes are locked onto your lips and he’s removing his hand from his mouth to instead run his pretty fingers over his bottom lip.

“I’m sorry I’m not there to kiss you senseless, Jihoon.” You murmur, and maybe you imagine it but you’re almost positive you saw his eyes darken. He  _did_  tighten his grip on himself though, no longer loose and slow but tight and quicker, drawing out soft, constant pants and some semblance of ‘ _oh_ ’ over and over again.

When his eyes finally focus in on your face again they’re hazy and glittering from the light of the screen, and you’re not sure you’ve ever seen a more handsome or beautiful human being in your entire life. When you tell him so he flushes dark enough that you can see it in his ears and face, even through the screen and dim light of his bedroom, and the occasional bursts of light from the TV highlight his cheeks in a way that makes it look like his blush is almost pulsating with heat.

“Th-thank you..” He mumbles, directing his gaze elsewhere, out away from the phone before down at himself, at how debauched he looks with his shorts pulled down just far enough that he could get his dick out and his pajama shirt unbuttoned completely. His flush has touched his chest now.

“Stop being so critical.” You cut off his thoughts with a stern order and he guiltily sends his gaze back towards you – he visibly relaxes once he’s focused on you again, shoulders untensing and pace becoming steady once more. “Don’t drag this out too long, Jihoonie – I know it feels good but it’s late for you and you need to sleep, remember?”

Your gentle urging has him speeding up – against his will, you can tell because of the way his brow furrows – and the lewd sounds of slick skin on skin filters through to you through the speaker, lighting a small heat in your chest. What you wouldn’t give to be the one doing that to him right now..

“I’m –“ His voice is soft, cracking at the edges, and his eyes have clenched shut tightly, face screwing up in pleasure.

“Remember the sheets.” You say softly, remaining silent after that until he twists so he’s on his back. “There you go. Now you can cum, Jihoon.”

It’s an order said much firmer than your first reminder, and he orgasms with a shout he bites back at the last second, choking on it and shoving the fingers of his free hand in his mouth to stay relatively quiet. His hips stutter upwards and you shift uncomfortably in your seat when you watch him paint his skin white – he was gorgeous, and all yours.

The cum glitters on his stomach and lower chest and you screenshot the image – the sound startles him but all he does is send you a disgruntled expression in response, swiping his fingers through it in a mixture of interest and disgust before sighing and standing up, disappearing from frame. He reappears less than a minute later, shirt re-buttoned and shorts pulled up, and flops onto the bed hard enough the phone dislodges and falls over. He’s quick to pick it up and focus it on his face again, and you can see him grab the pillow and fling it in the direction you hope the chair he stole it from was in.

“Feeling better?”

“Feeling tired.” He admits with a yawn, and god you want to cup his cheeks and kiss his forehead and tell him he did so well – but his softness has already disappeared, quicker to be replaced with his regular grumpy demeanor when you weren’t physically with him. “I think I can probably sleep now.”

“That’s good –“

“And that picture you took you can use to make  _yourself_  sleepy later too, right?” He’s smirking at you, the little shit, and you scoff and roll your eyes at him because no, you  _did not_  miss his innuendo there, and it was ridiculous how proud of himself he looked at it.

“ _Uh-huh_  – love you, Jihoon.”

“Love you too.”


End file.
